Camp-Fire Confessions
by lilidelafield
Summary: International Rescue is on temporary hiatus so that its members can take a much-needed break. On a camping holiday in the hills, the family take the opportunity to discuss deeply personal matters. The challenge, for each family member to answer any questions thrown at them honestly. It's confession time. Fluffy family stuff - (mostly). First tale, why is Scott a smother-hen?
1. Chapter 1

Scotty – The Smother Hen.

Scott stared into the flickering flames of the camp-fire, feeling the heat on his face. His brothers hunched around him, pressing close to him, for warmth or for comfort? They had been through a lot these past few years and had come through it all…more or less. They had recently had their father return to them, having been missing for more than two years, then Kayo's disappearance at the hand of her evil conniving uncle had knocked them all for six; Scotty especially.

Her return to Tracy Island had taken longer than any of them were comfortable with, and still she had refused to discuss in full the things she had gone through at his hand. They knew she would when she was ready, but the haunted expression in her eyes had become almost a permanent feature, and it broke everyone's hearts to see her like that. Instead of joining her adoptive brothers on their holiday, she had decided to visit with Lady Penelope instead. The invitation had come at the time when Kayo was feeling at her lowest, and she desperately needed a little pampering to help bring her out of herself. At least, Scotty mused, Lady P knew how to take good care of her guests. Kayo would get a real break, and fun to boot. That made this impromptu camping holiday all the more relaxing, because they no longer needed to worry about her.

If only his brothers had not asked him such a personal question. If dad had come with them, Scotty could have left this question to dad to answer…but dad had declined to come. Having lived for two years in the Amazon jungle, he had no desire to return to living rough. He wanted to enjoy a nice holiday in the peace and luxury of his own home.

"Scott? This was your idea, Scotty." Virgil reminded him in his soft voice. "Good therapy you said. But you don't have to answer if you really don't want to."

Scott shook himself and smiled at his brothers.

"Sorry, I was just…So you want me to explain why I am such a…what did you call me?

"Smother Hen!" Gordon supplied with a chuckle. "We know you care Scott. You're a brilliant big brother, but you must admit you do go overboard at times."

"Smother Hen." Scott repeated almost under his breath. He looked round at them and sighed. Some things were better left in the dark. What would dad say when they got back? Would he be glad or sorry that he had told the others about Neil? He looked up.

"Okay…the real reason? I am terrified of losing one of you guys. I love you all too much to risk losing you. You might almost call it a…a… _phobia_."

"That's why you get mad when we risk our lives, even though you are often risking yours?" Alan asked, trying to understand. "We're just as scared of losing you, Scott. We love you and need you too."

Scott ruffled his baby brother's hair fondly.

"I know, Squirt, and I am sorry. The thing is…I…"

They were moved to see a tear roll down Scott's cheek. Scotty never cried in front of them! John leaned in to him.

"You need to tell them, Scott. It's about time they knew."

"Tell us what?" Virgil asked, looking confused. Scott looked at John in surprise.

"You know? how do you know? Did dad tell you? Did Grandma?"

John shook his head.

"No, I remember. I know I was only two, but I've never forgotten him. He deserves to be remembered, Scotty. Go on."

Scott nodded, deriving strength from his oldest sibling.

"Okay, well…I know I am the oldest of us…but I was not Jeff and Lucille Tracy's firstborn son. When _I_ was born, Neil was three years old."

Virgil, Gordon and Alan stared at him, their eyes popping in shock.

" _Neil!?"_

Scott nodded.

"Named after the very first man in history to step foot on the moon. _Neil Armstrong Tracy_. He was _my_ big brother. He had blue eyes and auburn hair, and he could have taught Gordon a thing or two about pranks!"

There was silence for several seconds as the others digested this news. Finally, Virgil touched Scott's knee to bring him back out of his reverie.

"What happened to him, Scott?"

Scott glanced at John and saw pain on his face that reflected the agony in his own heart. He saw John give him a slight nod. Scott sighed, and noticed distantly that his hands were shaking slightly.

"He was everything a big brother should be, guys. He looked after me, and when John came along, he watched out for Johnny. When John was two and I was four, Neil was seven years old. Mom and dad were at the hospital…mom was having Virgil, and we were at home with grandpa and grandma. It happened so quickly. We were playing ball in the garden, when the ball went into the road. I went to get it, and Neil pulled me back and said the road was dangerous and I could get hurt. He waited until the road was clear and then walked out to get the ball. At that second, some crazy guy in a big blue truck came zooming around the corner and knocked him into the air. N. was dead before he hit the g.g. ."

Suddenly, Scott was weeping, silently, his face averted, his shoulders shaking. Tears were in John's eyes too. The three younger brothers were stunned to learn of the big brother they had never known, and heartbroken at Scott's grief, only now being allowed to show. They bunched closely round their oldest brother, all hugging him until finally Scott regained a measure of control once more. He managed a genuine if wan smile.

"Guys, Neil taught me how to be a good big brother. Losing Neil made me swear to myself that I would be like him and make him proud of me. I also promised him that I would never let anything happen to Johnny or the new baby."

He glanced at Virgil with a smile.

"I know what it feels like to lose a brother, and I don't ever want to feel that way again. Sorry if I come over too strong sometimes with the smothering bit, but I can't help it. You guys mean so much to me. Our big brother Neil would be so proud of you all too."

The silence was broken by the occasional sniff, until Alan's slightly teary voice cut across the crackling of the flames.

"I wish we could have known him Scotty. Can you tell us more about Neil Tracy?"

Huddling down together, staring into the now dying flames, Scott wiped away more tears, and started to talk.


	2. Chapter 2 - Virgil's Phobia

As the fire dwindled into embers, Gordon hoisted himself to his feet.

"C'mon Al, lets go grab some more wood for the fire."

Alan grunted and got up, and together the two youngest went over to the small woodpile that had been collected that morning for the campfire.

"Gordo, d'you think the guys would like some roasted mallows?"

Gordon's eyes lit up.

"I don't know but I sure would. You brought some?"

Alan nodded, his eyes gleaming in the half light.

"They're my all-time favourites. When I saw Virgil packing the toasting spikes, they made me remember the camp-out we had at school one year, and how we all toasted mallows over the campfire. So, I brought about ten bags along. I figured they would be popular…"

Gordon grinned.

"Great thinking bro. Let's go get 'em!"

When they returned to the campfire, Scott, John and Virgil had started to shiver and were huddled together for warmth. Gordon and Alan exchanged glances and grinned.

"Look at them. Three old women! Need your shawls, guys?"

Scott spluttered indignantly. Virgil laughed.

"You two took so long, we almost did grow old waiting. What do you have there, Alan?"

"A special treat. Mallows for toasting in the flames. Anyone interested?"

There was an instant excited lunge, and Alan passed round two bags of mallows, whilst Gordon handed out the toasting spikes. There was silence for a few minutes as the five brothers started toasting and tasting the delicious marshmallows.

"Alan, you're a genius!" Virgil muttered, his mouth full of delicious mallow. Alan laughed.

"You only just realized that, Virge? Whose turn is it now?"

"Turn for what?"

Alan rolled his eyes.

"To ask someone a question."

Scott looked thoughtful.

"Why not do it the other way around? Rather than taking turns to ask questions, it might be easier if we agree to take turns to be the one to do the talking. The rest of us can agree on what question we want to ask. Puts less pressure on the individual that way."

"Except for the one who has to answer the questions." Alan commented, then raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, whatever. I'll go along with whatever you guys want."

Virgil finished the last of his mallow and leaned back on his elbows.

"Yum. Thanks Alan, that was a nice surprise. I could do with a nap now…just lie back under the stars and listen to the crackling of the fire…"

"In that case Virgil, you can take your turn to talk next, before you fall asleep." Gordon said, grinning at his brother. Virgil sighed and then nodded.

"Very well, let's get this over with. I doubt there is much about me you guys don't already know anyway."

That got everyone thinking. Alan cocked his head.

"Actually, there is one thing…"

He glanced round at his brothers and caught Scott's nod. Virgil turned his attention to his baby brother.

"What is it Squirt?"

"It is kinda personal…when we're on a mission, Virge, you are always _there_ , you know what I mean? Solid and reliable, always knowledgeable and never doubting yourself. Even when I get nervous, you give me courage just by being so… _you_."

"Thanks Alan!" Virgil said, touched. "So, what is your question?"

"Uh…well, I have never seen or heard you show fear, but you would have to be insane not to get scared sometimes…some of the things we've seen. What scares you Virgil? Is there anything that scares you witless? Do you have a phobia that keeps you awake at night? How do you hide your fear so well?"

Gordon objected.

"That's not one question Alan, that's four!"

"Actually, it's two questions. What, if anything terrifies me, and how do I hide it. Right?" Virgil told him, with an affectionate smile at Alan. Alan nodded. Virgil inhaled deeply, then released it slowly, making the flames in front of him dance. He glanced up at Scott and John, who looked back at him with sympathy in their eyes. He looked back at his youngest brother.

Alan was braver than any of his brothers, in Virgil's opinion. Braver than himself. He knew how scared Alan sometimes was. It revealed itself in small things that Alan was probably unaware of. The way his hands shook ever so slightly, the slight pause and waver in his voice over the comms. But Alan had never complained of being afraid, never showed it openly, never faltered or held back. In fact, Alan was usually the most eager to get moving into the danger zone to get victims out. Eager… _reckless_ , Scott sometimes said. He was frequently afraid but was as courageous as a lion. The revelation that Alan received at least part of his inspiration from him was humbling. He deserved an honest answer. _This_ was going to hurt.

He found himself staring into the flames, his mind trawling back over memories he had long buried.

"I do have one phobia, Alan. I am…afraid of…death. I'm not afraid of dying myself, I'm afraid of losing people I care about. Especially you guys."

"So, on the rare occasion we lose someone on a rescue, it is especially hard on you?"

Virgil nodded, his expression dark.

"You could say that."

Alan ached to find out more, but the haunted look in his brother's eyes hurt him to see. Virgil reached out an arm and pulled him close. He smiled.

"It's okay Alan. I am supposed to talk about it. It is supposed to be therapeutic I'm told. It works when other people talk to me about their fears, but its harder to be the one doing the talking."

His eyes took on that faraway look again.

"I was just a little kid, Alan. You were a baby. Mom had died, and we were all missing her. I had been told my mom was dead, but I didn't really understand what that meant. A few weeks later I was in grandpa's truck with him. He was driving down to the local market to collect grandma when a car pulled out of a side-street right across our path. Grandpa turned the wheel to avoid hitting the car, which was small, and would have been flattened by our big truck. The truck bounced off a tree and rolled down the embankment and came to rest on its side in the field."

Virgil sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I remember I opened my eyes and grandpa was looking at me, but he was not smiling. At first, I thought it meant he was mad at me, and I tried to say sorry, but he didn't answer me. Then I saw he wasn't blinking. I started to get scared. And tried to get him to say something. When I shook his shoulders trying to make him say something, anything, he flopped sideways, and I panicked and screamed and screamed and screamed."

Tears were slipping down Virgil's face at the memory. Tears were in his brothers' eyes too.

"I have some memory of screaming and screaming until my voice ran out, and then I just stared at grandpa lying there and not moving until someone found us. Later, dad and Scooter explained to me that what had happened to mom had happened to grandpa. Grandpa had died in the crash, and we were going to put him into the ground next to mommy. I think that was the very first time it hit me that mommy really was never ever going to come home again. I started dreaming after that, of that truck crash, but instead of grandpa in the driver's seat, it was always mom, lying there, staring at me without blinking and never moving."

Virgil blew his nose and wiped his eyes, glancing helplessly at Scott. Scott rubbed Virgil's shoulder affectionately and carried on.

"Virgil stopped talking after that, for almost two years. He became terrified of letting any of us out of his sight. Almost every night he would have the same nightmare about mom and grandpa and that truck crash. Every time we found a dead animal or bird, he would go into a panic and scream and scream until it was moved out of the way."

Virgil composed himself and resumed his story.

"Grandma suggested to dad that it might help me to see some sort of child counsellor, and so I started to see Tasha. She was young and pretty and smart. She was a former pediatric nurse, and she knew how to talk to kids. She helped me to understand that nothing that happened had been my fault. By then I was already terrified of letting anyone I loved out of my sight. I mean, I couldn't go to her office for my appointments, she had to come to our house, where I was comfortable."

"How long did you see her for, Virgil?" Gordon asked, his voice quiet and awed. Virgil turned to look at him.

"I still see her from time to time. Not as often as I did as a child, but especially if we have had a difficult rescue, or something tragic happens…"

Alan closed his eyes, trying vainly to suppress the waves of pity he felt for his older brother.

"Virge, how do you cope with all of that? You have never let on, never let it show!"

Virgil shrugged.

"How do you deal with _any_ fear, Alan? You know the answer to that. You are often afraid on rescues, but you never let it show or let it get to you. What do _you_ do to cope?"

Alan was taken aback.

"Oh…well I just figure that if I'm going to die young, I would rather die trying to help someone than die of fright sitting in a Thunderbird. So, I just dive right in. Act, not react."

"Exactly. You take action, Alan. You do something about it. I thought about all the ways that people around me might die, and I learned everything I could so that I could act and do something rather than just sitting back and letting things happen. I decided that I had to learn about medicine so that if my family or anyone we rescue is in danger of dying, at least I would know what to do to keep them alive if it is possible."

"So that's why you became a qualified paramedic? That's why you are always so hot and strict with us about reporting injuries or sicknesses to you? That is also why you get mad when we try to sneak stuff past you?"

Virgil nodded.

"Exactly, Alan. I deal with my phobia by knowing everything I can that might help to keep people alive. Medicine, mechanics and engineering. I know all of our machines inside out, I know how they work, how to repair them and how to use them. I am not scared of earthquakes or fires or anything like that. I am not afraid of going into the danger zones. I am simply afraid of someone dying in my charge. So, I go out of my way to see that they don't."

"That must lead to sleepless nights every now and then."

"Occasionally, but…what's that phrase dad always uses?"

Alan grinned.

"Bed time Boys?"


	3. Chapter 3 - The Nightmares

**AUTHORS NOTE:** _I have a confession of my own to make. I was reading through older story posts from several years ago and came across one particular story that inspired this tale. The story was in fact a death-fic, and it was one that haunted me for days. However, I cannot find it again so I am unable to give the proper credit where it is due. If the writer of the original tale recognizes their own contribution to this story, perhaps you could let me know in a PM and I will add a due credit for the germ of the idea. In the meantime if I rediscover that older story, I will alter this note to include the proper credit. Thank you._

 _This story is completely original, by the way. Nothing has been taken from the other story, save for the_ **basic** _components of Alan's dream._

 _ **IMPORTANT NOTE:** I have discovered the story that inspired this one. It is called "splintered Facets Of The Mind" by Eliabrith. An incredible story, but one that I recommend you to read only if you are feeling strong. I found it particularly traumatising._

 _Lilidelafield_

One of the reasons they had come away on this camping holiday, Scott reflected, was to de-stress and try to find themselves again. So many things had happened recently, starting with dad's sudden return and all the events that had happened as a consequence, the attack of the Hood upon their integrity and the way the whole world had believed his lies so easily. True, they had been vindicated in the end on world news before the entire planet, but they were all still sore and angry. Angry with the Hood for everything he had done, angry with the world for believing the lies, for turning in an instant from hailing International Rescue as heroes, to vilifying them at every opportunity, and just as suddenly turning back and cheering them as heroes once again.

When the time had come for the family to vote to reactivate International Rescue, Scott had felt unable to add his voice. He was still passionate about the organization and its aims, but he was still too wired, too angry. The fallout from the last few weeks had not yet cooled. Until it did, Scott knew he would be more of a hindrance than an asset on any rescues.

He and the other members of his family had all voted secretly, without discussing their views with each other. Dad had been determined that each of his sons would be able to make his true feelings known.

They had all voted to keep International Rescue on hiatus for the time being. No one felt ready to put himself back out there. Dad had not been surprised. If he had been disappointed, he had hidden it well. Dad had taken it upon himself to inform a stunned and disappointed Colonel Casey that International Rescue had no immediate plans to start operations once again.

The five brothers were unaccustomed to such relative inactivity, and in hanging about the house, they eventually started to rub each other up the wrong way. The island became much too small to accommodate them all, and eventually the irritation had given way to constant bickering. No one was happy. It had become rapidly clear to Jeff Tracy, that his sons were all seriously stressed-out. They desperately _needed_ this holiday.

Scott poked the embers of the fire with his stick, causing a few sparks to flare temporarily to life, only to die moments later. As soon as they had got away from the island, the ships and the slightly cloistered atmosphere, the atmosphere between them had cleared and lifted dramatically. To spend three weeks or as long as they needed, living wild in their individual tents, eating off the trail, going and doing whatever they pleased with no stresses or strains to weary the body or the soul, no duties, no reports to compile, no debriefings. They could forget about being professional colleagues and simply be themselves. Five brothers who enjoyed having fun.

Gradually, Scott could feel the world starting to re-emerge into full colour again. He had heard the bird-song all along, but he started to actually listen, and recognize the beauty and simplicity in the singing of the birds, watching the sun rising and falling every day.

Gordon had started telling jokes again. John was starting to lose the stern look he had been cultivating, and started to relax again, even smiling occasionally. A stressed-out John never, ever smiled.

Back home, Virgil had put away his drawing book, and his paints and pencils, and started hammering away down in the workshops. Doing any job that needed doing provided it was hard physical work, that tired him out and left him no time to brood. Now, he had started to sketch out in the sketch book things that interested him; birds and flowers, the antics of his brothers. He too was finally starting to relax.

Only one brother still worried him a little. Alan.

Alan had been suffering nightmares for weeks now. Even if they had all gone back to work, Alan would not have been able to get back into Thunderbird Three until his disturbed sleeping patterns improved. He had not had a good night's sleep since awakening from his coma.

Alan had been consistently refusing to talk about his nightmares, insisting that they were nothing, only dreams and not even real! But they could all see that the strain Alan was under, and were at a loss to know how to help him. Scott thought the world of `little Allie' as he still occasionally thought of him, even if he did not often show it. The knowledge that the kid was still suffering nightmares, night after night hurt.

He gave a start as a loud scream rent the air, coming from Alan's tent, and without even thinking about it, Scott pushed his way through the flaps. Alan had sat up in his sleeping-bag, and had his face buried in his knees. He was breathing heavily.

"Alan."

Alan did not move, so Scott crouched beside him and enfolded him in his arms. Alan was shaking. Scott pulled him close and held him tightly. Another head poked through the tent flap. It was Virgil.

"Cocoa? I'm gonna light the stove and make some."

Alan and Scott both nodded. When they emerged, they found John and Gordon relaying the fire, and then restarting it. They looked up when the eldest and youngest emerged. Gordon came over.

"You ok Al?"

Alan nodded, still visibly shaking. They sat next to the fire in a huddle and accepted mugs of cocoa from Virgil.

"Okay Alan, the challenge is with you this time. You need to tell us about your dream. Its been affecting your sleep for so long, it must be something really awful."

Alan shook his head, making to get up. His brothers pulled him down again.

"Sorry kiddo, but you're going nowhere until you start talking."

"I'd rather try and forget it…"

John shook his head.

"Alan, you've been doing that for weeks, and you are starting to look like a ghost you're so short of sleep."

"Alan, this holiday is supposed to be about all of us unwinding, getting things off our chests." Virgil put in with a smile. "Relaxing again, recovering from what happened with the Hood. Getting back to being the people we really are rather than the people we have become. We will all find that we have things to get off our chests, issues to talk about. So come on, tell us please what your nightmares have been all about."

Alan looked round the clearing, his four big brothers in the flickering glow from the fire, and the low light coming from the stove. They all looked worried and concerned. He remembered Sid Wilkins at school, who had had three brothers, none of whom had ever bothered about Sid at all. Even when Sid had fallen during gym and broken his leg badly, none of them had even sent him a note, let alone visit him. Alan knew how fortunate he was that he and his brothers were all so close. That they all cared about him. This was what? Two in the morning, and they had all dragged themselves out of their sleeping-bags in order to help him recover from a nightmare?

Remembering the nightmare itself, seeing the caring faces of his brothers made Alan dissolve into sudden sobs. His brothers were shocked and upset.

"Please tell us what it is Allie?" John pleaded, desperately. "We badly want to help you. Its agony to see you like this and not know what to do to help!"

Alan leaned forward and hugged John briefly, and leaned back against Scott's chest and accepted a mug of cocoa from Virgil.

"Thanks Virge. My nightmare has been basically the same every single night...for weeks. Sometimes I take part in the dream, sometimes I am just watching things happen, almost like a movie. There are differences every night, but the same basic thing happens. All of us die, except for one of us. This one tonight for instance...dad, Brains, myself, Virgil, John, grandma and Gordon were all killed in an explosion, and Scotty was left alive on his own. In this dream I had to watch as he grew to be an old man living all on his own on Tracy island, totally insane and out of his mind, living his life in his memories."

Alan shook his head and wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

"One night, the dream was that I was up on Thunderbird Five, and suddenly all the comms went dead. Everyone had died, and there were no messages coming up from Earth at all. I was left to spend the rest of my life alone on Thunderbird Five because the lift was gone, and no one was left alive to answer my calls."

He could feel the horror in all of them, and heard a number of indrawn breaths.

"You dream every single night that all of us die?"

Alan nodded.

"Usually I am the one left alone, but sometimes I see one of you instead. I wake up sweating, desperate to know that it wasn't actually real; but I... I am frightened that..."

His voice broke, and to cover the moment, he buried his nose in his mug of cocoa. He felt arms around him.

"Oh Allie, that's horrible!" Gordon exclaimed, sounding upset. "You've been dreaming for weeks about losing all of us? How come you never said anything until now?"

Alan shrugged.

"Well they're only dreams, right? I decided that if I let them get to me, I might make them come true somehow, and I'd rather die than lose you guys."

His brothers looked at each other. John opened his mouth, and Alan raised his eyebrow.

"John, if you're about to give me statistics, forget it. I've looked at them all already. The likelihood of something happening that could take away my entire family all at once...but none of those numbers mean a thing. We're International Rescue. We put ourselves in dangerous situations all the time. I am not afraid of dying myself, but I..." his voice broke once again and he was forced to close his eyes and take several deep steadying breaths before he was able to continue.

"...but I am terrified of losing you. Any of you...all of you. I knew a guy at school...Sid Wilkins who had three brothers, but they were not close at all. They didn't even like each other very much. They never bothered about him even when he broke his leg so badly he spent weeks and weeks in traction. When he got a letter from his father telling him that his eldest brother had been killed in a car accident, he just rolled his eyes and made some smartass comment about one less card to write or something."

Scott frowned.

"That's awful!"

Alan nodded.

"I know. He's at the whole other extreme. He never envied me having you guys except that time he came to see me in hospital when I'd had that appendectomy, and he found all four of you round my bed, and all the cards and presents you brought me."

He looked round at the four faces, the shadows cast by the flames of the fire hilighting the worry on their faces.

"Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon...I guess if I could stop being so scared of losing you all, these nightmares might stop, but...I...I just...I love you guys so much...I guess the thought that one of us could die doing our jobs has always bothered me. That time with John brought it home when Eos nearly suffocated him to death...but until recently I have been able to put it at the back of my mind. Now though...I'm so scared all the time of something happening and..."

Alan fell silent, although tears streamed down his face. As one, his brothers lunged forward, and Alan found himself caught in the middle of a group hug that none of them wanted to break.

It wasn't until the sun rose above the trees and shone its light directly into Alan's eyes, that he realized they had all fallen asleep together beside the fire. Safely enfolded in the arms of all his big brothers, he realized something else.

His nightmare had fled.


	4. Chapter 4 - Anything But The Rabbits

"What about you. John?" Gordon asked, idly chewing on a grass stalk. "You're a very mysterious guy. With the list of questions as long as my arm that I could ask you, I wouldn't know which to choose. How come you dislike gravity so much? Is that the only reason you always preferred to stay up in Five? Is there a reason you hate parties? How come you always refused to come ice-skating with the rest of us? We know you hate rabbits, but I would _really_ love to know why!"

Alan snorted, and John threw him an affronted glance.

"One question at a time, Gordo!" he retorted. "And I'll thank you for not putting ideas into the Squirt's head."

Alan laughed.

"Johnny, I don't need suggestions from Gordon, I have plenty of my own. Like…how come you're my favourite brother when the others are all just as awesome as you are? How come your eyes keep changing colour when the light changes? How come you can hold your own in a math contest, and you can name half a million constellations, but you don't know the first thing about cooking? Oh yeah, and why are you scared of rabbits?"

John huffed, and his brothers chuckled. Gordon grinned.

"John, why don't you just tell us something about yourself that we don't already know?"

"There's little that Scott won't already know."

"That's because he's the oldest. He's practically an old man. Besides, he was little himself once."

Everyone chuckled at Scott's annoyed expression, and John smiled.

"Well, okay, anything but the rabbits! There is something that he may not remember. I was two years old…"

Alan raised his eyebrows.

"You remember when you were two?"

John nodded.

"I remember everything, Alan."

Gordon smirked at Alan.

"We'll have to keep that in mind in the future!"

Virgil shook his head.

"Go on, John. What happened when you were two years old?"

John looked at him.

"I died." He said.

There was silence, then Scott, frowning slightly spoke, with a slight catch in his voice.

"Well, you're pretty amazingly solid for a dead man, Johnny."

John shook his head.

"Alright, _almost_ died. I didn't think you would remember it. You remembered it once, but then I think mom and dad made sure you didn't know everything. You would have been…"

"Upset?"

John nodded.

"To say the least. It must have been six months after Neil was killed. Virgil was a baby. Scotty and I were playing upstairs, there was an accident, and I fell down the stairs and bumped my head. There was a little cut on my right temple, and a bruise on my arm, but I was fine. No hurts or tears or anything. Mom cleaned up the cut on my head and gave us both a lollipop, because we didn't cry. She took us to see a doctor to make sure I was okay, and she was told everything seemed fine.

It must have been a couple of days later, we were out shopping with mom, when I remember suddenly going dizzy. I was walking, and you were holding my hand, Scott, to stop me running off. Then I passed out. I found out later that you started screaming for mom, and I was rushed into a hospital; where they learned that I had suffered a tiny bleed in the brain when I fell, and as it was minor at first, there had been no symptoms."

"But it had slowly gotten worse and worse?" Virgil asked.

"Apparently, the doctors had to do an emergency operation on my brain to remove a small blood clot that had formed, and to remove the pressure formed by the build up of blood that couldn't escape from the brain cavity."

"Oh my g…" Scott began, a look of shock on his face. "I remember the day you fell down the stairs John. That was my fault! We were fighting about something…building blocks or something, and I pushed you away from my tower to stop you knocking it over. I didn't realize you were so close to the top of the stairs…god, I remember it now…"

John smiled.

"Mom once said to me she thought you had repressed the memory of what happened once you realized what it had led up to. I'm sorry you had to remember now, big brother, but it was an accident. We were both just tiny kids. You were hardly more than a baby yourself at the time."

Tears dripped slowly down Scott's face as he remembered more and more.

"Mom stayed with you at the hospital, and dad brought me in the next day to see you. You were in a bed in the children's intensive care unit, hooked up to what looked like a hundred machines. That was only the…the second time I had ever seen dad cry. The first was when we lost Neil, the second was when we nearly lost you. You were in a coma for about three days."

John nodded.

"I remember waking up scared because I was in a strange place. Then I saw mom beside me, and I looked for my big brother. I wanted to see my big brother Scotty, because I knew that if he was there, he would look after me and see that I was okay."

Scott laughed through his tears.

"Mom told me the first thing you said when you woke up was Want Cotty!"

"Cotty? Awww, that is soooo cute, John!" Gordon cooed. John grinned at him.

"Well, I was a very cute two year old I'll have you know. I could have made a fortune if I could have bottled it and sold it."

"You recovered quickly?" Virgil asked him, "No long-term problems I hope?"

"There speaks the trainee surgeon!" Gordon remarked. Virgil stuck out his tongue at his younger brother, and John rolled his eyes.

"After the brain trauma, I started to suffer seizures. Mom was told the accident had caused a form of epilepsy, but that it could be treated with drugs or with an operation. They went with drugs at first until the seizures started getting worse. In the end, when I was five they decided to opt for the surgery."

"So, you had a second brain operation?" Alan asked, aghast. John nodded. Scott looked confused.

"John, why don't I remember that second operation? I remember now how you used to have seizures. I remember they scared me, so mom would always give me something to do to take my mind away from worrying about you. I had no idea that they happened because of…"

Scott's voice broke, and John smiled at him.

"Still trying to take the credit, Scott? Things happen. It was an accident and that's all. Mom and dad were worried, I think, about me starting school and still having so many seizures. The seizures were getting worse, and the medication wasn't working so well, so they decided to opt for the surgery. They sent you and Virgil to live with grandma and grandpa for a few weeks, and that's when it happened."

"I gather the surgery worked, John? I don't remember ever seeing you suffer with any kind of epileptic fit." Virgil remarked.

John smiled.

"The epilepsy was stopped in its tracks. I went from three or four seizures a day down to zero. They kept a close eye on me for the next five years, but the seizures stopped completely, and they never returned."

Scott sighed deeply.

"I can't believe such a huge section of your life got past me John. Some big brother I am!"

"Most of that was mom and dad being overly protective of you. The fact that you were already very protective of me, coupled with the fact that because you were there when I fell down the stairs, they knew you would probably blame yourself for everything, they wanted to spare you from that, and so did I."

"John, if you were still concerned with protecting Scott, why did you choose to tell that story?"

"Well Alan, because the brain is an amazing and very complicated organ, and who fully understands it, even now? I think it was psychological, but after the epilepsy, and the two surgeries, I started to get really…um…really shy around strangers."

They all knew that John was shy, and had always been very uncomfortable around strangers, especially large groups of people he did not know well. He had always been fine talking to them from the safety of Thunderbird Five, but in person John always tended to withdraw into himself. If any of his brothers were around, he would retreat behind them. Now they understood for the first time the events that had caused it.

John half smiled.

"Just after I came out of the hospital, someone came to the house to visit mom and this lady saw me with half my hair shaved and the stitches; and started asking questions. I remember feeling really bad, and I hid in my room until the lady had gone. By the time I went to kindergarten, I had almost forgotten about the whole thing. Then grandma made me have my hair cut, and the next day at school, some of the kids noticed my scar for the first time and kept asking me why I had a zip in my head. That made the other kids laugh, and I got upset and ran out of class. One of the teachers found me crying in the cloakroom and made me go back, and the kids laughed at me even more because I'd been crying."

Alan leaned into him. He could never have imagined that his wonderful big brother John could have gone through so much as a little kid. No wonder the poor guy preferred to avoid strangers. John ruffled Alan's hair.

"It's okay Alan, really. When grandma realized what happened, she apologized, and she never nagged mom to cut my hair again after that. The other kids quickly forgot of course, but I never did. I was always nervous of strangers after that. I'm afraid as I got older, the problem just got worse instead of better. I have learned to deal with it better than I did as a child, but it's like when Lady Penelope dragged me to that suspended chateau for that auction of hers, she lied to me about the size of the party. I'd never have gone if I'd known."

Gordon sighed.

"Pen would never have made you go if she had known how much it bothered you. Do you want me to tell her?"

John shook his head.

"Nah, I could have said no. I let her persuade me. She's a party girl. A large party to me is just a small get-together for her."

"You know John," Virgil began, a small smile playing around his lips. "If you have a fear of large crowds and open places, that would explain why you are nervous of strangers and prefer to stay away from everyone up in your space station. They call it agoraphobia I believe. There are treatments for it. We could turn you into a party boy within a year…you'd be able to keep an eye on Gordon and Alan then, keep them out of trouble!"

"Thanks Virgil, but I am perfectly happy exactly as I am!" John declared. Virgil nodded.

"That's a shame, John. I've been study psychology and psychiatry in my spare time. You'd make an awesome test subject. Okay then how about you satisfy my curiosity?"

"About what?" John eyed his younger brother suspiciously. Virgil grinned at Gordon.

"What Gordo said earlier. I would also love to know how you managed to develop a phobia of rabbits!"


	5. Chapter 5 - The Little Comedian

_**Author's Note : There are so many stories begging to be told for Gordon, but I found it is surprisingly hard getting him to cooperate with me. This is one of the tales I want to tell for him, but I fear it is not quite my best effort (after four false starts btw), so please forgive the shortcomings I feel certain you will encounter in this story. The Gordon character in the original series I always found very annoying. However, the character of Gordon in TAG is awesomely brilliant and wonderful. So this is definitely TAG!**_

The five brothers had been enjoying their holiday. As they saw it, the trip had been less about taking a holiday break from normal routine so much as from _themselves_. Every one of them felt as if they had been put through the wringer in one way or another; some of them physically, all of them emotionally.

John and Alan had been the most hurt, Gordon too along with grandma had been attacked by the Hood, and they were all still suffering the aftermath of the traumatic time they had been through.

Alan's nightmares were slowly becoming less frequent, but they had not gone away, not by a long chalk. Since Alan had opened up and received the love and comfort from his big brothers, he had become less afraid of showing his fear in their presence. Consequently, the inner turmoil that was the root cause of the nightmares was gradually easing. He still woke up screaming most nights, however. Gordon was certain that there were several owls nesting nearby that would never be the same again!

He crawled into Alan's tent early one morning after being awakened by a particularly heart-rending scream that had ended in Alan sobbing softly. He enfolded his little brother in his arms and held him tightly until he felt Alan stop shaking, and his tears diminished into the occasional sniffle.

"Oh Gordy, sorry to wake you up again."

Gordon smiled at him.

"Hey, that's what this trip is all about, right? To heal. You'll get rid of the nightmares. Perhaps if we share a tent for a few nights? We could zip our two sleeping-bags together and snuggle up together. It might help you sleep better if you're not alone."

"Thanks Gordy. That would be great…but do you mind if we stay awake and talk for a bit first? I still got that image in my head…you and the guys getting…"

He broke off and shook his head, trying to rid himself of some obviously horrible dream images. Gordon nodded, hugging him closer.

"Let me get my bag, and we can get warm again and still chat, okay?"

Gordon was back in a moment with his sleeping bag, and the two young men zipped their bags together, and slipped inside. At once Alan felt comforted and protected.

"I feel ashamed that I still need this at my age Gords."

"Well don't." Gordon replied firmly. "You went through some pretty awful things back there…to say nothing of being stuck in a nightmare-filled coma for over a month. I swore to myself that I would do whatever I could to help you get through this once you woke up. Next time the GDF get their hands on the Hood, they want to string him up by his…"

"…Gordy!" Alan exclaimed, scandalized. Gordon shrugged and grinned. "Oh alright." He conceded. "I'll settle for him being tarred and feathered and paraded naked through New York City with a sign over his head saying that he wears lacy boxers!"

Alan laughed.

"He probably does at that! Thanks bro. You always manage to cheer me up, somehow."

"All part of the service, Squirt."

There was silence for a minute, then Alan asked almost reluctantly;

"um…Gordon, can I ask you a personal question?"

"The answer is _no_ , I do _not_ wear lacy boxers!"

Alan giggled.

"No Gordy, I'm serious. Scott, John and Virgil are really great guys, but… sometimes I think they are a bit too serious, you know what I mean? It's almost as though…oh, I don't know. I was just thinking how different you are to them. I am different too, but Scotty would say in my case that it is you that lead me astray. They tell me that you were always the one with the jokes and the pranks, even before I came along. Who taught you to be so good at pranking people? Why do you do it? You can be as serious as them when you want to. Sometimes it's almost as though you are two different people."

Gordon frowned at Alan in puzzlement.

"Don't you like my pranks? I thought you did? You've never grumbled about joining in."

"I love your pranks, Gordon, and I love the way you are always able to turn any serious conversation into a funny one; how you can always make us all laugh. I often envy you that talent. But there are times…"

Gordon looked Alan in the eye.

"…times?"

"There are times when you have cracked a joke; or played a prank and we're all falling over ourselves laughing; but when I look at you, you don't always laugh with your eyes. It seems that sometimes you are a bit like a painted clown, Gordy. A happy face on the outside that hides a sad one inside."

For a long moment, Gordon stared at his little brother. How was it that Allie was so observant? He rested his forehead on Alan's shoulder for a moment, and when he sat up, Alan was looking worried.

"Sorry Gordon, I didn't mean to upset you or anything…"

Gordon shook his head.

"It's alright, Allie. I was wondering why the others have never asked me that question. Whether they've not noticed, or whether they have always known the answer. They've known me longer than I have, really."

Alan nodded.

"Maybe they do, but they can't see inside your head."

Gordon smiled.

"I guess you're right about the sad clown image, brother. That fits well. A lot of the time I _am_ happy and cheerful. Mom always taught me to see a glass as half-full rather than half-empty, but other times…"

Gordon broke off and blinked suddenly. He smiled at his little brother, who was listening intently.

"Mom was something of a prankster herself when she was young, you know? She mentioned it to me once, after dad had spanked me for ruining John's homework with paint so that he had to do it all over again. It took him three hours, and he didn't finish until past midnight. He overslept the next day and was late for school and was put in detention by the teacher for being late. Mom made me see the difference between a harmless prank for fun and a trick that hurts people and only makes them mad. You know Alan, one of the last things she said to me before she…"

Gordon's voice broke, and he cleared his throat a few times before he was able to continue.

"After you were born, Alan, the doctors said she was really weak and they wouldn't be able to save her. We were told we could go in and say goodbye to her. She…um…she made me p p promise to always stay the same, and always stay her happy little comedian. I remember I asked her if I could still play harmless pranks on my big brothers, and even on my baby brother? She said of course, so long that no one ever got hurt and we could always laugh. She said that when she was gone we would be sad, but I could always help everyone by making them laugh."

Alan's eyes were round.

"Oh, Gordon."

Gordon smiled slightly.

"I was just a kid of six, so I didn't know quite what was going on, but I do remember that when I finally realized that mommy was never coming home again, I remembered what she had told me about how I could help. By being happy and making people laugh. I found that every time I made Scotty or Virgil laugh, it made the hurt go away a little bit. I suppose, the first prank I played after mom died was after about six months. Everyone else was really busy. Dad was working as always, Scott was looking after you, John and Virgil were cleaning and cooking and no one had time for me. I was missing mom like mad, and I didn't have dad either."

"Wasn't grandma around?" Alan asked. Gordon shook his head.

"This was before Grandma came over. Grandpa had died about a month earlier, and she was…you know…"

Alan nodded. He knew how much Grandma still missed grandpa, even after fifteen years.

"Well I played a prank on Scott…not one that made him too cross, but it made John and Virgil laugh, and it made me feel better. So, after that, every time I started to feel a bit…overwhelmed with memories or something, I would prank someone. A good laugh always made me feel better."

He paused; and seemed to get caught up in his memories for a while. Alan waited, and eventually Gordon continued.

"I wish you could have known mom, Alan. I remember her a lot better than I let on. I let _them_ think that I have forgotten a lot about her, because it is easier than the smothering I would get otherwise. Mom always had a lot of time for me. After she died, I missed her so much, every single day. I still do even now. I still sometimes look around for her, and wonder where she is, just for a second. I still wish desperately that I could show her my Olympic medal, and show her round Thunderbird Four. Every time I look at you I see mom, and I wish that she could see you now."

Alan wiped dampness from his eyes and gave his brother a hug.

"So, when your memories of mom get too much to handle, when you start to feel overwhelmed by her loss, you honour her by playing a prank?"

Gordon smiled.

"Actually Alan, the jokes and the pranks have sometimes been the only things that have prevented me from breaking down altogether. After…after the accident, I almost lost my sense of humour completely. Then out of the blue I had a dream about mom, and she was asking me why I had broken my promise. That was all I could remember about the dream when I woke up, and I racked my brains for ages before I remembered that the only promise I had ever made her was on her deathbed, when I had promised her that I would never change, and I would always be her little comedian."

"That was when you started to come back to life, and tell your jokes again?" Alan remembered. "I remember after that visit, dad cried all the way home in the car, then Virgil and Johnny cried when we got home. They were so relieved that you were starting to become the real you once again."

Gordon nodded.

"You try it sometime, Alan. A time when you feel at your worst, when the world has become a very dark place full of traps and monsters for you to deal with, when you're feeling depressed and angry and just want to give up. Then decide how you would go about cheering everyone else up? What jokes could you think of? What prank could you pull?"

"You make it sound like a chore."

"Sometimes it is, Squirt. I don't only tell jokes or pull the pranks when _I_ need cheering up. Most of the time it is because I see the rest of you need cheering up."

"Even though half the time it makes Scott or Virgil tearing mad at you?"

Gordon grinned.

"Or you, even. Yes. You see Alan, if they are mad at me for pulling a prank of some sort, they usually forget whatever it was they were stressing about. Like a few months ago, you remember? After Virgil was getting all hot and bothered about grandma scratching his precious 'Bird?"

Alan remembered suddenly and guffawed.

"Oh yeah, he and Scott both came up from the silos covered with honey and yellow feathers! They chased you seven times around the swimming pool and then you all went in!"

Gordon laughed.

"They were hopping mad, but they forgot all about those scratches on Two!"

Alan leaned forward and grabbed his big brother in a hug.

"You know what Gordo? You are totally awesome!"


	6. Chapter 6 - The Beauty In Nature

The wind whipped through his hair as he sat hugging his knees and let his eyes roam across the valley laid out below like some great map; or an artist's drawing. One of Virgil's perhaps? The odd dwelling here and there, but most of the view was of unending beauty; fast rivers and tiny streams and babbling brooks that fed and watered the vast forests that covered the lower slopes and much of the valley floor. As his eyes followed the sides of the valley higher and higher, forests gave way to scrubby grass, bushes and great rocks. There were still a few hardy trees up here, but only those ancient specimens that could withstand the lower temperatures of the altitude, the unbroken winds and the frequent, unrelenting cold that pervaded much of the year.

It was the height of summer here, and truthfully it might have been warm if the wind would just ease up for a spell. But somehow, the feel of the wind blowing wildly and freely around him, whipping his clothes and his hair about gave him a feeling of freedom he had not felt in a long time.

Even the knowledge that his four brothers were around did nothing to diminish the welcome air of solitude. Solitude was something he did not often find, and to be honest, seldom sought. Normally he thrived on company. He could not bear to be apart from his brothers, even for a short time. He hated not knowing where they were, or how they were doing. He had always felt the need to be with them so that he could reassure himself that all was well with them. If they were well, then so was he.

Recently, however, so much had been wrong with everyone, he had begun to feel like he was being pulled apart, from the inside out. His heart had been broken, smashed and pulverized so many times he was beginning to wonder if it would ever feel completely whole again?

He had not realized quite how fragile his emotions had been until this moment, savouring the beauty of this place, the solid reality of nature; the continuity of all living things that was best experienced in a place like this. Feeling the wind in his face felt like the world itself breathing on him, reminding him in its own gentle way that life would continue, and so must he.

Had he ever truly doubted it?

If he had lost John or Alan in that business with the Hood trying to steal Thunderbird Three, he knew without a doubt he would have wanted to be right there beside them. The alternative pain he knew he would have been experiencing now would be completely unbearable.

But it had not been only John and Alan. Gordon had been drugged and could have died. Grandma too. Kayo…in some ways the Hood's attack on Kayo hurt the most. She had, probably without fully realizing it herself, had become a part of him. A part of his reason for continuing to exist and fight. The fact that she had been severely treated and neglected for so many weeks, and by her own _uncle_ no less, made him want to scream and pound something in his fury.

This was another reason why he needed to feel the wind. It calmed him somehow, the way his mom used to blow in his ear when he was tiny to make him relax. He had no idea why he remembered that small detail…he had been less than a year old…but he remembered so clearly how the feel of her breath on his face had made him feel reassured and loved. It had been a sure-fire way his mom had found to get her little Scotty to go to sleep.

Virgil had not been directly attacked by the Hood, but like himself, Virgil lived a huge proportion of his life through his brothers. Virgil too needed to know his brothers were all happy and healthy and safe. Part of that was, of course, the result of occurrences in his childhood, but a portion of it was that huge great heart of his. Virgil adored his family. He would give his own life for his family without a second thought, or even a first one. Even knowing that someone he loved was in pain, made Virgil feel the pain along with them.

Scott recalled the myriad times in recent weeks his middle brother had sat in a hospital waiting room with a green face, in between bouts of violent vomiting whilst he waited for good news about a sick or injured brother.

The several weeks that Alan had spent in a coma had been particularly painful for Virgil. At first Allie had been in the hospital, but Virgil and Gordon had put their heads together and decided to bring the teenager home in the hope that familiar sounds and places would bring him out of it sooner. It had still taken some considerable time for Alan to wake up, and the intervening time had been hell for the artist. Virgil had lost almost a stone in weight, simply through being unable to eat. He had become almost literally sick with worry. Knowing that Virgil suffered so much; and knowing that there was not a darned thing he could do to take that worry away from him had proven hell for Scot himself. It had been a huge relief to everyone when Alan woke up from his coma, for it meant that Virgil was finally able to start eating again and could start to rebuild his own strength, Scott was able to relax just slightly from forever watching over Virgil, and Johnny too, who had spent those weeks looking like a child with a lost puppy.

He thought of them all now. They had chosen a spot among the bushes that helped to partially shield them from the worst of the winds, and they were erecting the tents and making them fast; and building a campfire.

They had been away for a little over a week now. John was just starting to smile again, although still not as readily as usual. Virgil was back to eating like a horse, but to Scott's frustration, seemed never to get fat. Only stronger and more muscular. How fair was that? Gordon seemed just as normal, except that the jokes were only now starting to sound spontaneous rather than carefully planned; his smile natural rather than forced. For a man as outgoing and loud and boisterous as Gordon, it was astonishing how little Scott really knew about the man's emotional state. Gordon tended to confide only in Virgil or Alan. Alan himself, through the daytime had reverted, for the most part, to his own exuberant, enthusiastic self. His sleep patterns were still erratic; they had all frequently been awaked by his screams as his nightmares continued to plague him. Just a couple of nights ago, Gordon and Alan had started sharing a tent, and Alan had found that having his brother close by helped to keep the worst dreams at bay. But he was wary of going back into his own tent at night.

The nightmares would fade in time just as the memories would. All in all, things were improving for his brothers. Slowly, but things were slowly starting to come together again.

They were having fun together once again.

He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder, and he swung his head and found Virgil bending over him, two mugs of cocoa in his hand.

"Here. Alan got the fire started, and he and John are frying sausages and bread. I thought you could use this."

He handed Scott one of the mugs. Scott took it and grinned appreciatively.

"Hmm. Thanks, Virge. You okay?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You've not moved from this spot in half an hour. I was…"

"You were worrying about me? Thanks, but I was just thinking."

"About?"

Scott twisted his body round so that he was sitting sideways to the view, facing his brother.

"Everything. How much we all needed this holiday. How much I needed it!"

Virgil nodded.

"From you Scott, that is some admission."

Scott smiled.

"Have you ever noticed the psychological benefits of taking a walk in a brisk wind, letting it blow around you?"

Virgil half grinned.

"Can't say I've ever thought about it, save for wishing it were slightly warmer. You like the wind then?"

"It is a little chilly, now you mention it, but I was thinking how feeling the wind reminds me that whatever else happens in life, there are things, like the wind and the rain, and the rivers and seas that will go on and on forever. It just…"

Words failed him, but Virgil seemed to understand, as he always did. They sat together, feeling the wind around them, watching the sun going down below the hills, just enjoying one another's company, drinking their cocoa.

Finally, the tantalizing aroma of fried sausages hit them, and they grinned at one another.

"Come on Virgil, let's help the others to eat those sausages before they all disappear. This view will still be here tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7 - Broken!

John noted, as he trudged steadily up the hill in the wake of his four brothers, that the further he walked, the better his knee felt. The better his knee, the more time his tired brain found to focus on other, less worthy considerations.

It was not as if he could really have reeled off a list of things that were on his mind either. He just felt low and stressed. The fall-out from their recent nasty encounter with the Hood, he knew. He was interested to notice however, that the open air, the exercise, and the company of his brothers gradually eased his mind, fondling his troubled soul. As the days passed, it was almost as if they had always been out here, hiking through the wilderness, picking wild fruit and plants, catching fish and buying odd items whenever they passed by a farm or small trader.

They carried their tents and necessary equipment with them, spreading the load evenly between the five of them, so that none of the brothers became overburdened.

As the time went on and days passed by, John noticed each of his brothers slowly losing their silent, wary expressions, the solemn depression that had settled over all of them to varying degrees.

All except Scott.

As they grew more and more light-hearted, his eyebrows seemed to grow more and more furrowed. His deepening mood did not emerge in his conversation. It showed only when he thought he was alone or unobserved. John wondered if the three younger ones had noticed?

Virgil probably had. Virgil rarely missed anything. Gordon and Alan, although by no means unaffected by the events of the last few weeks, seemed to be relishing this chance to enjoy the freedom of the outdoors with their three elder brothers, and displayed little outward signs of anything being wrong at all.

Perhaps they were just good at hiding it? Scott certainly was when he was being observed, and when he laughed, John studied him. Scott's smiles seemed genuine. His contentment in their company and his pride in all they had achieved shone from his eyes. Whatever was getting to Scotty did not appear to be anything to do with them. Was Scott in any way stressed about _himself_ somehow? Whatever it was, was preventing the eldest from relaxing completely or enjoying himself properly like the rest of them. John resolved to ask him that evening over the campfire. That was the time and place they had agreed to tackle issues they encountered. After the evening meal, around the campfire, in everyone's presence.

oOoOo

Scott stared at John, a look of astonishment on his face.

"Unhappy John? Whatever are you on about?"

Virgil was nodding in agreement with John. The younger two looked surprised and concerned. John looked at Scott's innocent expression. If he had not known Scott so well, he _might_ have been fooled. John looked Scott in the eye.

"I've been worrying about you, big brother. It only shows on your face when you think no one is looking. It's an expression of extreme sadness, almost… almost a _self-loathing_. There is definitely something on your mind, and I'm worried that if you don't talk about it, whatever it is will start to consume you."

Scott stared at him for a long moment, then his gaze switched to Virgil, then to Gordon and Alan, all looking equally concerned, and he gave a sudden gulp, tears in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks.

In less than a second, he found himself in the middle of a pile of brothers, all hugging him and anxious to reassure him that they were there for him, whatever his problem might be. Rather than find it reassuring however, Scott began to feel more and more guilty, and he started to sob aloud.

"Please don't Scotty!" came Alan's pleading voice, sounding very young all of a sudden. "Whatever it is, we love you."

That did not seem to reassure the eldest as much as he had hoped, because the sobs, if anything, intensified.

"Come here, big brother."

Virgil pulled Scott close, and wrapped him in a massive bearhug.

Virgil continued to hold Scott close until his brother began to calm down a little, and the sobs reduced to occasional damp sniffs. When Scott finally looked up, he seemed mortified with embarrassment.

"Um… about that…" he muttered, wiping away the tears that still rolled down his cheeks. He glanced around at his brothers, half ashamed of himself, but he saw in their eyes only love and compassion. They were clustered around him like chicks around the mother hen, all anxious to be as close as possible to him.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Scooter." Gordon assured him. "We've all been feeling bad lately. Please talk about it. Sounds like it hurts really bad."

Scott nodded, and shuddered again, wiping still more rolling tears from his face.

"I'm the eldest brother, and the team leader, it's been my job to help and reassure and advise the rest of you, but I…this time I just couldn't, I didn't even try! I failed you. I failed _all_ of you! I'm so sorry!"

"Since when did you fail anyone?" Virgil demanded in an indignant voice. "Who said so? I'll give 'em a bloody nose!"

Scott spluttered in a mixture of laughter and tears.

"No, you wouldn't Virge. You're too nice a guy to bust _anybody's_ nose."

Virgil shook his head.

"Thanks Scott, but I'd happily bust the Hood's nose for him, _and_ sock him in the jaw, _and_ give him a black eye, _and_ …" he paused at Scott's teary laughter, and his expression darkened again. "He's responsible for this isn't he?"

To his surprise, Scott shook his head.

"No, I failed you all on my own, Virgil. You and Gordon had to take charge, I was useless back there. I never thought it would happen to me. I always believed I was strong enough to handle anything!"

Alan was looking confused.

"Scooter's never failed! What is he talking about?" He asked. Gordon opened his mouth to reply, but Scott got there first.

"We were at the hospital Alan. You were in a coma, fighting for your life, and for a while, John was also unconscious, along with both grandma and Gordy, having been attacked by the Hood. Only dad, Virgil Kayo and I were… then Kayo got captured by the Hood, although we didn't know it at the time and it was just the three of us, and I…"

Alan wrinkled his face in confusion.

"Why does that mean you failed, Scott? The Hood is a murdering monster. He doesn't care about anyone."

"Because I went to pieces, Alan!" Scott shouted suddenly, unable to bear it any longer. "I was so scared for you, and for the others. Even after John and Gordy and grandma woke up, I couldn't think straight. Gordon and Virgil had to give me a talking to. They arranged to bring you home to the island. I was just a useless pudding. I couldn't think straight. I…I…I think he broke me. The Hood broke me, and I…"

John grabbed Scott's shoulders and gave the older man a gentle shake.

"Scott! Scott! SCOTT! Listen to me. No one broke you, do you hear me? You didn't break. It might feel that way, but you stayed strong."

Scott shook his head, the relentless tears falling unheeded now.

"He broke me! He beat me! I should have been able to stop him from…I should have! I should! It's my job to protect you…my baby brothers! I promised mom I would always take care of all of you, never let anything happen to you, and I so nearly lost three of you! If I had lost Johnny and Gordy and Allie, dad would hate me, and Virgil would hate me, and _I_ would hate me!"

His brothers exchanged glances. They had never seen their big brother Scott like this before. This had clearly been eating away at him for ages. Scott's deep-rooted belief that he had been put on this earth to take care of his four younger brothers, keep them safe from harm. The promise he had made to mom had taken them by surprise. They had not known about that, but it would explain a great deal of this crisis now. If he felt that somehow, he could or should have been able to prevent the Hood's attack on them all…

Scott was weeping, quietly and privately, his head cradled between his knees, his shoulders shaking. They waited silently, leaning in close to him to let him feel their presence, until he once again came up for air, his face red and wet from weeping, his nose running. Virgil wordlessly handed him a roll of toilet tissue, which Scott took with a shaky hand and wiped his face dry, then blew his nose vigorously. John glanced at Virgil, who nodded once. He lifted Scott's chin and gave him a smile.

"Thanks, bro." he said, simply. Scott looked puzzled.

"What for?"

"Caring about us all so much that you get yourself this worked up!"

"Humph!"

"We mean it Scott." Virgil insisted; "but Scott, considering our line of business, don't you think that you've taken on a bit of an impossible task if you're determined to keep all of us safe all of the time?"

"Humph." Scott grunted again. His brothers resisted the temptation to smile. Gordon picked up the toilet roll again and threw it at Scott's head. It hit him on the forehead and bounced away. Scott looked up at him and Gordon gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry bro, you are the eldest in a family of adrenalin junkies, who also happen to have rather dangerous jobs. The only way you can promise to keep all of us safe is to lock us all up in a plastic bubble!"

"So, I am being unreasonable, am I?"

"You are being too hard on yourself, Scott." Virgil told him. "But there is one problem you have that definitely needs to be sorted out right here and now!"

Scott nodded miserably, then frowning, looked up.

"What problem? Something different?"

Virgil nodded and wiggled his fingers.

"You need to pay penance for thinking even for a single _second_ that I could ever hate you! If something had happened to the guys, then I would hate _the Hood_ for it, not you. You're the big brother who almost worried yourself into a nervous breakdown because you love us so much. How could you think that about me? Or about any of us? You need to pay penance for that."

"No!" Scott looked almost panic-stricken. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Please no…"

He backed away from the fire as his brothers advanced on him, all wiggling their fingers at him.

"Help!" Scott cried as he was attacked from all sides by his younger brothers, in a four-way tickle-attack that had him gasping and giggling and wriggling like a two-year old, trying desperately to escape from their skilled fingers.

oOoOo

As the sun disappeared below the bank of trees, and the little camp was bathed in darkness with only the subdued glow from the fire, Scott leaned on John's shoulder, his feet in Virgil's lap. The two youngest were already asleep. Virgil was quietly humming a song that had been one of their mother's favourites. As he finished, Scott sniffed and sat up.

"Thanks, Virgil. That was lovely."

"I thought you were asleep, Scott."

"I was thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking how lucky I am to have all you guys."

"That stuff has been weighing on you for a while, hasn't it?"

Scott nodded.

"Quite a while. It hasn't quite gone you know. I know you were right, and I'm being foolish, but I can't help thinking that I should have been able to do more than I did…I still feel a little bit guilty…especially for letting John and Allie hide in Three without me."

John ruffled Scott's hair.

"You're right Scott, I think you _are_ guilty of something."

Virgil's eyes snapped up, hard and sharp at John, and Scott's face dropped, and he nodded.

"I knew it. What is it?"

"You are guilty of being human, Scott. But since you're not the only one, if you forgive me for it, I'll forgive you. Deal?"

Virgil grinned as John held out his hand to his brother. Scott let a reluctant grin slip across his face, and he grabbed John's hand and wrung it.

"Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8 - Gordon's Phobia

The five brothers sat hunched together in a cave, their packed-up tents piled up near the back, watching gloomily as the rain pounded the ground outside, the thunder echoing seemingly forever. They had been unable to star a fire, with everything so wet, they had been forced to use one of their scarce supply of fire-cubes to generate a little heat. It was not, however, adapted for cooking over, so they'd had no choice but to dine in luxury on Brains' ration bars.

Not that they minded eating ration bars. The flavour was pleasant enough, and they were jolly filling too; but to spend all day hiking looking forward to a supper of fried fish as only Gordon knew how, only to find it was impossible due to the downpour, somehow the ration bars were a little disappointing.

"We could make a small fire in here…" Alan ventured hopefully. Virgil shook his head vigorously.

"No way kiddo! I value being able to breathe! You build a fire in here and we'll get smoked out long before we get any benefit out of the flames. You'll have to wrap up, that's al."

"What about more stories then?" Gordon glanced round at his brothers. "Anyone got a story they haven't told yet?"

They all had probably, but as they all looked at one another, they all simultaneously realized no one was about to volunteer. Perhaps they felt they all knew one another so well, there was nothing to tell that the others did not already know? Although, Gordon reflected, the point of the exercise was not about imparting information to each other, but of exorcizing their personal demons. Getting stuff off their chests. It had been a day or two and their campfire conversations had been replaced by games of ` _I Spy'_ , or ` _twenty questions'_. Seemingly, anything to avoid having to face unpleasant memories.

He thought back to the last one. Scott breaking down in front of them all had secretly shocked everyone, Gordon knew. They had known he felt responsible for them all, but no one had realized just how far his feeling of guilt went. All the same, Scotty was looking a lot happier now, although still not entirely cured yet. Still, there was time.

Alright then, someone would have to be pounced on with a question. They looked at one another, grinning nervously. Clearly, they were all thinking the same thing. Who would speak first?

"Gords, we've not heard a story out of you yet!" John called suddenly, making Gordon's heart jump and then drop into his boots. "How about you tell us about your worst fear?"

"Oh, you know that one. Losing you guys."

Scott nodded.

"We know, Gords." He said gently. "We all share that one with you. But we all have things we hate…"

Gordon closed his eyes, feeling that once familiar lump of fear come up into his throat, making it hard to swallow.

"Okay…well, my biggest fear is… _being alone_."

Gordon looked at John.

"It's one of the reasons I respect you so much John, and it is also the reason I could never take your place on Five. Being alone scares the whatsit out of me, really. I don't know how you survive up there all the time."

"I'm not alone, Gordon."

"But that's the point, John. Physically, you are. You can talk to anyone on the planet, but you are physically alone. I know you are a loner, you thrive up there. No one could do the job you do as well as you do it. For sure, I couldn't."

"So that one time you took over from me on Five when both Alan and I got sick…you came back down after a week. We thought it was because you had no pool up there, and it was driving you crazy…?"

Gordon shook his head.

"Well, a pool might have made it easier to deal with, but…guys, when I am totally alone, like I felt on Thunderbird Five, it triggers shakes and tremors almost worse than an earthquake, it triggers horrendous nightmares that wake me up screaming whatever I do…I need to know that I have people around me at all times, or within easy reach."

He shuddered violently.

"Even thinking about it makes me want to throw up…I get a huge lump in my throat that I can't swallow, my heart beats so hard I can see my shirt move. Even the _thought_ of being alone terrifies me to death. I just can't handle it!"

Alan rubbed Gordon's shoulder comfortingly.

"So how do you manage when you're underwater in Four, Gordon? I'd've thought you would be very alone then?"

"Four's the exception, Alan. You see, on Five, I couldn't escape…well not until the lift was installed, anyway. But on Four, I am in my own element. Besides, I always know that if the fear takes hold, I know that the surface and Virgil are just a short trip up, and I can swim it if need be. When I'm in Four, and Virge tells me he is right with me, I know he means it. He is right above me, and he is always there on the end of a commlink."

Gordon turned to his immediate older brother.

"Virge, have you any idea how comforting and homely your voice is over the comms? You have a way of telling people that everything is under control so that they cannot help but believe you."

"Thank you Gords." Virgil was moved. "So, was there any one event that started this off, or have you always had this fear of being alone?"

Gordon nodded.

"Do you remember Hayley Calloway?"

Alan did not remember, but the others remembered her very well. Hayley was a young college student whom had been studying childcare; and had taken on babysitting duties in her spare time to help pay the bills. After the death of their mother when Alan was born, their father had hired her to pick his sons up from school, take them home, give them some dinner and take care of them until he came home from work, or until their grandmother arrived. She had not lasted very long in the Tracy household.

Gordon explained to Alan who she was; and rubbed his eyes.

"The day dad fired her, did he ever tell you what happened?"

Scott shook his head.

"No. I remember he was blisteringly angry, but he was too incoherent with rage to explain properly, and after that her name became taboo."

Gordon nodded.

"Well, this day, you were on a sleepover with friends, Scott, and both John and Virgil were on a school trip. As they were going to arrive back around seven thirty, Virgil's teacher had promised to drive them home in his car, so all Hayley had to worry about was me and Alan. Well, it turned out that on this day Alan had colic, so Hayley called grandma who came over and took Allie to the doctor. Hayley just had to pick me up from kindergarten and give me some food until grandma got back with Allie. Well, instead of taking me home, she took me on the bus into town, where she wanted to meet some friends. She started flirting with some boy from her college and forgot all about me. I remember at some point I became desperate to use the bathroom, so she pointed it out and told me to hurry up. I got in there and I had trouble undoing my trousers, so it took me longer than normal. When I went back outside, she and all her friends had gone."

Gordon's throat constricted at the memory, and he was forced to stop and take some deep breaths to calm himself down again. Virgil put an arm around him, and he leaned into Virgil's side gratefully.

"I was in a strange shopping mall I did not know, miles from home and my babysitter had gone off somewhere without me. I remember wandering through the crowds of people, calling her name over and over again, but she didn't come. No one seemed to even notice me. I was so scared Scott, I can't tell you."

Gordon's eyes misted at the memory, but he fought to keep the threatening tears at bay. Scott's fists clenched in anger at the knowledge of what his baby brother had suffered.

"I really wish…" Scott began, then bit his tongue. It was a little late now, after all for second guessing.

"So what happened in the end?" Alan asked, wide eyed. Gordon cleared his throat a couple of times before answering.

"Um, well I walked and walked and cried and shouted Hayley's name. In the end I think I started to call for my big brother Scotty. I knew that when I called Scott, he always came. But you didn't come, and it got later and later, and I was hungry. I sat down in a corner of the mall hugging my knees and just kept calling for you, Scott."

Scott stared at him.

"Someone found you there?"

Gordon nodded.

"Eventually. I was beginning to think that I was going to be alone forever, and wondering where I would sleep tonight if no one found me and took me home? After what felt like a year, but I think was just one or two hours, a security guard happened to walk past and saw me down there, sobbing, and he asked me who I was and who _Scott_ was. I said I was called Gordon, and that my babysitter had left me behind and I didn't know how to go home, and Scott was my big brother. The security guard picked me up and took me to his office where he called the police. The police officer came with a youth officer of some sort who managed to get me to tell her who my daddy was. Within six minutes of them calling him, dad arrived at the mall to get me, and I don't think I have ever been gladder to see anyone. I remember that I was too scared to let him put me down, and so I refused to let go of him even to get in the car. The police had to drive us home, with an officer following in dad's car. I've had nightmares about that day ever since."

His brothers stared at him, shocked and upset.

"Gords, how come you have never told us about this before? That must have been…"

Virgil's voice broke, and he grabbed his little brother in a hug instead. Gordon smiled slightly.

"At the time it was really scary, but I got over the incident pretty quickly. Dad got rid of Hayley and promised that it would never happen again, and it never did. When the nightmares about abandonment and being left alone started, at first, I was just too young and scared to think about what had caused them. Dad and grandma probably realized, but they never said anything to me. They just kept promising me that I wasn't alone, and I never would be. Over time the nightmares started to fade, but the fear of being alone never did."

"Wow, Gordon!" was all Alan could find to say. John rested his hand on Gordon's shoulder.

"I don't suppose you know whether Hayley was prosecuted for leaving you alone, was she?"

Gordon shrugged.

"Dad has never mentioned her since that day, so I don't know."

"When we get home, I could find out for you if you ever decide you want to know."

Gordon thought about it, then shook his head.

"Best not John, but thanks anyway. I think for me at least, I am better off just trying to put the whole thing behind me. I rarely get those nightmares these days, and as for being alone…with four brothers and an adoptive sister, the only time I'm ever alone is when I am in the shower…and that suits me just fine!"

Everyone chuckled, and Virgil ruffled Gordon's hair.

"Well, after such a scary tale, I could do with a funny one. John, why don't you tell us the story of why you are afraid of bunny rabbits?"


	9. Chapter 9 - Rabbits And Shellfish

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _ **For some reason I feel I owe a slight apology for this story, but it has been bugging me for ages to get it down in some form. This is not a subject I am terribly comfortable talking about, but it insisted. Believe me, this is much tamer than my original story!**_

"Well John? Are you going to talk about the rabbits?"

John folded his arms deliberately and favoured Gordon with his patented fish-eye stare.

"No."

"Aw go on Johnny."

"I said `No!', Gordon!"

"But I mean, cute little iddy biddy bunny rabbits, Johnny! How can you be afraid of bunny rabbits?"

John sighed and turned to Scott for support. Scott, however was grinning widely, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. He suddenly realized John was glaring at him, and he straightened his face, doing his best to look innocent.

"Scott, tell our little brother to leave me alone."

Scott's grin slipped back into place for a fateful second before he regained control over it again.

"Sorry John, you're on your own. I can't help being…er…curious myself. I don't recall you ever being scared of bunnies when you were a kid. Gramps had a cageful of them on the farm, and we used to take them out of their hutch and put them in a large run on the lawn. You used to enjoy watching them mating!"

John's glare turned icy-cold. Gordon's grin widened even more.

"Did you get bitten by one of them or something, John?"

John felt his heart rate rising and fought to calm himself down.

"Gordon please! Stop talking about…"

John's words were cut off as he started to hyperventilate, and he started to struggle for real. Virgil leapt forward, glaring at Gordon.

"John, lie down on your back." He commanded in a low, calm, clear voice. "Slow breaths, in….out…. slow breaths John, slow deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. In…out…that's it John, it's alright, easy there, slow, easy breaths now…good."

Gordon's eyes became as round as saucers.

"You really _are_ scared John! I'm really sorry. This is _so_ not funny!"

His brothers watched in sympathy, as John regained control over his breathing once again, Virgil close beside him. Once he was calm again, Virgil and Gordon helped him to sit up, and Alan clutched his hand.

"You ok bro? You scared me for a minute!"

John nodded wearily.

"I'm fine, Al. Don't worry." He turned to Gordon.

"Look Gords, I know you meant no harm, but everyone has things they fear, or hate. For example, we all know about your love affair with arachnids."

Gordon shuddered at once. He hated, feared and detested spiders. Even small ones sent him scurrying from a room to fetch a brother, usually Alan, to remove it before he was attacked. He nodded shamefaced.

"I was wrong to make light of it, John. I would hate to be teased for my fear of spiders."

John nodded acknowledgment.

"But Gords, why do you hate spiders?"

Gordon shivered.

"Their eight legs, and the way they scurry along. Yeurgghhh!"

John smiled faintly.

"So, if I was to take a tarantula and remove four of its legs, it would be less scary for you?"

"No, it would still be a spider!"

"So, the eight legs and the scurrying are only part of the problem then. Crabs have eight legs, and they also scurry, but you're not scared of them, are you?"

"No, but they're not spiders. They're crabs!"

His brothers smiled at each other. John nodded.

"So, the fear of spiders can't be only about what they look like or how they move. So why are you so afraid of them? Have you ever been bitten by a spider?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"So, your fear of spiders has no logical reason?"

Gordon nodded.

"I guess that's so. That's why they call it a _phobia_ , John!"

John smiled gently.

"So, it is. An unreasoning fear of something that has little or no true danger. You have no idea why you are terrified of spiders, only that they give you the creeps whenever you encounter one."

He heaved a sigh and looked his little brother in the eye.

"To answer your question partly, Gordon; Yes, I hate rabbits. Yes, I have a fear of rabbits, but no, it is not a phobia…at least I guess it is now, but it did not start out as a phobia. I can trace my dislike of rabbits back to one specific event. That one event gave me a good reason to hate them, and a darned good reason for not wanting to bring it up again. Meaning, it has taken me several years to get rid of the nightmares it caused. I don't want to start _them_ all over again!"

Gordon nodded ruefully and glanced at Scott.

"We're never going to learn what happened to make our Johnny hate rabbits, are we?"

Scott shook his head.

"Probably not, but let it go Gordon. There are plenty of other things we can talk about. John, any phobias that you are willing to talk about?"

John shook his head.

"Not really…I had an odd phobia when I was a kid, but I grew out of that years ago."

"What was that?" Alan asked, his eyes locked on those of his big brother. John grinned at him, then looked up at Scott.

"You remember Scott, how we discovered I was allergic to eating shellfish?"

Scott nodded, grimacing.

"Yeah! The summer production at school. A pantomime…what was it John?"

"Puss in Boots!" John replied, grinning. Scott nodded.

"Ah yes, of course. You played Dick's mother didn't you, all dressed up as a pantomime dame, complete with full padding!"

Alan, Virgil and Gordon laughed. Scott grinned, then wrinkled his nose at the memory.

"You came on for your second scene and started violently vomiting right there on the stage in front of the whole school, the teachers _and_ all the parents too!"

John nodded, even the memory making him turn slightly green about the gills.

"I remember feeling under the weather, but I had no idea _that_ was going to happen until…" he shuddered. "I felt awful. Far too ill to be embarrassed at first. The embarrassment came later. At first, I felt so ill I thought I was going to die."

"Poor John!" Alan exclaimed. "What happened? Did they stop the play?"

Scott shook his head.

"They halted the play for half an hour so that the stage could be cleaned up and the drama teacher got into a similar costume and _he_ took over the role. John was rushed into the school's medical room."

"I couldn't stop vomiting for ages." John told them. "Then when my throat started to swell up, they rushed me into hospital. Mom and dad were right there of course. It turned out that the lobster dinner we had before the play didn't like me. The hospital found that I was allergic to almost all kinds of shellfish."

He shook his head, as his mind went over the memories.

"After that I became terrified of vomiting, and especially if I was out in public. I was teased badly at school for a few months because of the shellfish episode, and I started to refuse to eat anything unless I knew I was going to stay at home after the meal. If I knew I had to go out, to school or to town or anywhere else, I would refuse to eat in case something similar happened again."

"That meant you went to school every day without breakfast? And no lunch at school either? How did you get away with that?" Gordon asked, aghast.

John shrugged.

"I just gave my lunch to my friends. There would always be someone nearby willing to eat extra sandwiches or fruit."

"Johnny got really skinny." Scott told them. "He kept it hidden with extra tee-shirts and sweaters, so we didn't realize he had a problem until he got sick with measles, and mom had to treat his spots with lotion. It took a lot of time and effort to help John realize that he was safe with any food except shellfish. That the other things he had always loved would still be safe for him to eat. But that must have been an awful time for him."

John nodded.

"It was. I did eventually learn to eat normally again, just avoiding the shellfish, but the fear of vomiting in public took a lot longer to fade. In fact, it was one of the last things I found I had to conquer for my NASA training. We were warned that around half of all new recruits going into space got space-sick at first, and then ground-sick on their return to normal gravity, and we had to learn to handle it like pros."

"You still get sick occasionally, don't you John?" Virgil asked him. John nodded.

"The first few hours back on earth after being on Five for a while, and the first few hours on Five after spending more than a couple of days on the ground."

"Was that the reason you always preferred to stay up on Five all the time rather than coming down to see us more often?" Alan asked. John shrugged.

"Well, it was a factor, certainly." He smiled. "If you were in my place Alan, and you knew that returning to Tracy Island would mean spending the first twelve hours with your head in a bucket, would you be overly eager to make the trip regularly? Especially if you had a long-term aversion to vomiting?"

Alan hugged him.

"I see what you mean. Well, you could stay on earth with us. That would sort it!" he declared with feeling. "Or, you could get Brains to design you some anti-sickness pills…or…"

"Or?"

Alan glanced across the cave and grinned sympathetically at virgil.

"Virgil vomits a lot. You could always ask him how he deals with it."

Gordon rolled his eyes and grimaced.

"Not that I'm unsympathetic or anything, but this is an unsavoury subject. Couldn't we talk about something cute and harmless?"

"Like what?" John asked him, unthinkingly. Gordon shrugged.

"Um…what about…bunny rabbits?"

 **AFTERWORD:** **_Forgive me for the teasing about the rabbits. Clearly this is something that John is unwilling to discuss. I'll see if I can persuade him to reveal all, but I promise nothing! - Lili de la field_**


	10. Chapter 10 - To Win And To Lose

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Alan's anguish in this tale is based on the events that took place during** _ **chapter 39**_ **of my story** _ **Out Of The Blue**_ **, whilst John and Alan were being held captive by The Hood**

John sat down on a convenient boulder, rubbing his knee and wincing.

"Guys?" he called feebly after his brothers. "Sorry, but I can't go on any more. I need to rest. This knee has had about all it can stand for the time being."

With some relief, he saw his brothers turn around and hurry to his side. Virgil pulled his backpack from his back and fumbled in one of the outer zipper pockets.

"Here John. You're in pain because you're overdue for your next dose of painkillers. Why didn't you say anything?"

John smiled.

"Sorry Virgil, but I was hoping to be able to wean myself off them. Seeing how long I can go before…I guess I'm not really fit enough yet for all this hiking and mountain climbing."

Scott gave his brother a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"This is your holiday as much as ours John. You're as fit as you can be. We'll go as slowly as you need. What's the rush? We can even stay put here for a couple of days if that's what you need. So long as we're having a good time together."

"Thanks Scott…thanks Virgil. Where are the Squirts?"

"Exploring this area. Gordon says he can smell water nearby." Virgil replied with a laugh. "He's starting to get withdrawal symptoms. Just as well our swimming pool is not portable, or he'd have had me lug it up here for medicinal purposes!"

The others chuckled. It had been five days since they had started their holiday, and three days since they had passed any body of water large and deep enough for Gordon to indulge his passion for swimming. A moment later, the two youngest brothers came crashing through the underbrush, calling excitedly.

"Guys, you gotta come through here. There's a large lake, perfect for swimming in, willow trees, jumping fish...a perfect place to camp. Especially if you're planning on hanging about for an extra day or two." Gordon's enthusiasm was bubbling over. Alan pointed back through the trees.

"That way…there's also a fast-moving stream feeding the lake that might be perfect for drinking water with one of Brains' purification tablets."

Virgil turned to John.

"Are you ready to move on?"

John shook his head.

"Not yet. When the tablets kick in I'll join you. I'd quite like to rest here for a bit."

Scott nodded.

"Okay John, we'll go ahead and make camp. One of us will stay with you until you're ready. Any takers?"

Alan leapt up on to the rock beside his big brother.

"I'll stay with John for a bit. Gordon can lead you guys to the lake. John and I will follow when he's up to it."

John bumped shoulders with Alan.

"Thanks buddy."

They sat side by side, watching their three brothers disappearing between the trees, then Alan took a deep breath.

"What do you think he's up to now, John?"

John looked at his youngest brother, momentarily puzzled. But the worried expression on Alan's face made it clear who `he' was.

"The Hood? Planning his next piece of mischief, I'll bet."

"Involving _us_ again?"

John frowned slightly.

"Worried, Alan?"

Biting his lip, Alan nodded.

"He's clever, and very sneaky…and he knows how to be patient and wait when he needs to. Whatever he comes up with next will take us by surprise."

John nodded.

"You're right that he's sneaky."

Alan looked down at his hands.

"He's already tried to steal the thunderbirds, kill dad, you, Gordon, grandma _and_ me. He even tried to make me kill _you_ , John. He tried to get me to choose between you and Thunderbird Three. I know he didn't go through with it in the end, but at the time I didn't know that. I thought I had condemned you to death. I keep dreaming of it John, as well as all the other dreams I keep getting. The others are bad but at least they are different every night. That dream about you never changes. I have the same dream at least once every single night. The gun pointed at your head, the Hood making me choose. Unless I give him free access to Thunderbird Three he would have his man put a bullet through your head. The dream seems to explore in too much gory detail all the things that might have happened. I wake up every time feeling like my heart has been ripped apart."

John put his arm around his brother.

"I've seen the recording of what happened, Alan. You did the right thing. Even if he had killed me, it would still have been the right thing."

Alan's face crumpled in torment.

"But you're my brother, John. How could I be right to condemn you to death? How could I have ever lived with myself if he had killed you?"

John pulled him close.

"Alan, imagine that you had given the Hood what he wanted. Thunderbird Three. Where would we have been then? Would he have let us go?"

Alan shook his head miserably.

"He'd have killed us prob'ly or sent us to his mine as slaves or something."

"Exactly. And what would he have done with the rocket?"

"Complete and total chaos. He'd have killed or caused the deaths of dozens of people, hundreds even."

"And how would you have felt knowing that by risking one life, you could have saved those hundreds of people?"

Alan buried his face in John's shoulder.

"I know. It's the greater good, right? But why should the greater good have to always come at the risk of someone I love? He chose not to kill you this time, but what if something similar happens another time?"

"Alan."

John pulled away and turned slightly so that he and Alan were face to face.

"Are _you_ afraid of dying?"

"I guess…yes, but I'm more scared of losing you."

"Exactly, Alan. I feel the same way, and so do the others. Any normal person is afraid of death, but when you have loved ones you care about, you would do anything in your power to save them. Even give your own life. The Hood is trading on that. He knows we all have each other. He is counting on it. He will always use that tactic if he thinks it will work, but he won't try it on you in future. He tried it on you this time, knowing that as the youngest and most inexperienced, you are more likely to give in than the rest of us. But you showed him what International Rescue is really all about. You proved to him once and for all that a Tracy is not for turning. If he could not bribe or fool _you_ into giving in, what hope would he have with the rest of us?"

Alan stared at him.

"You think that because he failed to make me give in, even though I am the youngest, he'll know that it would be a waste of time trying that trap again on any of us?"

John nodded.

"That is exactly what I think, Alan. He mistook your youth for weakness. You showed him who you truly are. It doesn't mean he won't try it again, but if he does he will know what to expect. If he is trying to get information out of you, which would be the most likely scenario, he would be shooting himself in the foot to kill you before he gets what he's after. You showed him that you are not the easy enemy he took you for."

"So, you don't blame me for almost getting you killed?"

John smiled and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Of course I don't blame you, Alan. I am really proud of you. If you had let me live and hundreds of others had died because of it, I would feel terrible, and so would you."

He pulled back and ruffled Alan's hair.

"This is not an easy life we have chosen, and the likelihood is that sooner or later one or more of us may well end up dead as a result. That is the decision we have all made. That is the risk we have all agreed to take in order to help people. There are those in the world who might think us crazy if they knew the half of it, but…"

"They don't understand what is at stake, whereas we do."

Alan nodded, sniffing away the threatening tears and finally taking in the beauty of the surrounding trees and the birdsong that filled the air.

"This is a beautiful world, and people deserve the chance to live it as we do."

He leaned against his brother's shoulder, feeling the knot in his stomach begin to loosen slightly.

"John…do you really think it's worth it? Everything we do and all the risks we have to take?"

John rubbed absently at his knee, then slipped off his rock and tested his weight on it and smiled.

"Do you remember that little girl we rescued once, who ran back to Virgil and gave him a flower to say thank you?"

Alan nodded, smiling at the memory. John smiled too. Yes, it was definitely well worth it.

Hoisting their backpacks once more, they strolled away through the woods to join their brothers.


	11. Chapter 11 - Catharsis

Virgil listened to the wind and the rain battering the outside of his tent, picked up his notebook and pencil and started to write;

"It has been almost a year since I lost her.

She was beautiful, kind, spirited. The first time we met, she slapped my face. No, I am not going to tell you why. Suffice it to say that it was a misunderstanding. We were going to be married. Scott and the guys had agreed that I could build myself a home of my own on the island, provided I was able to make do without professional contractors of course. We could never have had anything else built on the island by contracted workers without giving ourselves away. But designing her own home was something that Constance had always dreamed of, and she was eager for us to make it our very own project. My brothers would have helped, naturally. Of course, this was whilst dad was still missing, so he was not available to ask. We all know what he would have said, however.

John took a special course and became licensed to perform marriages so that he could marry Connie and I on mother's beach. Everything was organized, and we were all getting excited. Connie and I had organized our own honeymoon. We had planned to spend a week on safari in Africa; then three days in London, seeing the sights and a couple of shows at the same time; then we had planned to go on a three-day cycle tour of Holland, staying in hotels and guest houses along the way. Johnny had even arranged for our luggage to make the same journey through Holland with us by different means, arriving at each guest house approximately when we did so that we would not have to strap it all on to our bicycles. John is a stickler for details! We had then planned to fly to Italy and spend five days in Rome before flying to Venice and spending a romantic long weekend there before heading back home to Tracy Island.

She had gone out shopping. Her outfits were all prepared, but she had gone shopping for some last-minute items when she was knocked down and killed by a hit-and-run driver.

She was killed just two weeks before our wedding day.

I suppose I have always worn my heart on my sleeve. Not by choice, let me say. Especially a man of my build and reputation, a member of International Rescue, the supposed `powerhouse' of the team, I am not the type of man most people would expect to burst into tears in front of them; on duty I am generally able to maintain focus and professional detachment, on the surface at least. At home it's another matter. But for the first few weeks following her death and memorial service, I just couldn't stop it, wherever I was.

No one can sustain tears constantly of course, and after the first twenty-four hours or so, the floods became intermittent. You know how grief goes, I really don't need to spell it out. But even six weeks later, when I was really needed to get back on duty I found the strain of keeping my composure very difficult. The slightest thing could set me off. A stray piece of music, a familiar scent. One time a young woman we were rescuing spoke with a very similar voice to Connie's. So similar that it set my heart racing, and my foolish brain galloping off on idiotic notions of "Could it be her after all? Perhaps she's not really dead?"

I have thankfully managed to get it through my thick skull that my Connie _is_ dead, and I am _never_ going to see her again. As much as I hate and resent it, that is a fact that I cannot ignore or deny. I have finally managed to accept it. I still weep for her at night from time to time, but through the day my brothers have got into the habit of watching out for me, making sure that my hands, or rather, my brain is not left idle for too long, and although she is rarely far from my thoughts, I am able to remember the funny things. I can talk about her without the constant waterworks. I know she would approve. She was a very happy soul and she would have been telling me off if she could have seen how far I fell after her death. I am still not back to the man I was, but I'm getting there.

The reason I am writing this now, is because we are camped at the foot of a most magnificent waterfall. One of the tallest and loveliest I have ever seen on this continent, and as soon as I laid eyes on it, they filled with tears. This was the sort of place that Connie would have loved.

Connie was an outstandingly gifted poet. She would have been moved to poetry by the stunning beauty of this place. As she was moved to write, I am moved to draw or paint. This time though, I sat with a blank page in front of me, hardly seeing the view at all. I was just seeing her lovely face; and wishing desperately that she was here to see it with me. If she had not died, she would be my wife now.

Wife.

But instead of that, she died, was cremated, and her ashes buried respectfully on Tracy Island in a private place only I know.

When Scott saw my blank paper after sitting there for two hours, he asked me if I was alright? Guess what happened next? Yup, off I went again, blubbing like a two-year-old. My brothers were all there for me, hugging, plying me with hot chocolate (John) and toasted marshmallows (Alan), but contrary to current habits, every time I tried to start talking about my feelings and what set me off this time, my voice dried up, and I choked and couldn't get the words out. Then it started heaving it down and we all dashed for our tents. So, here I am writing it all down, so that later, when the rain stops, and we sit around our considerably dampened campfire, if I still cannot talk about her, I can give Scott this to read aloud. Perhaps I will anyway…

I remember when we lost mom…dad was devastated. I always knew how terrible it was to lose someone, whoever it was, but I must admit that even as a kid I wondered once or twice how it was that it took dad a whole month before he remembered that he had kids. If it hadn't been for Scotty and grandma and grandpa…

I understand now.

I hope that Scott, John, Gordon and Alan never, ever learn to understand it.

It has been eleven months. The world used to be rainbow coloured. Then it was just grey. Now I am seeing the world in multi-colours again. In some ways better than before, because I Connie taught me to see the world in the unique way that she did. I pray that I will never forget her. Despite the agony of her loss, she made me appreciate my world so much more."

Virgil put his pencil back in its box and rested his notebook down on the end of his sleeping-bag. He unzipped his tent and poked his head out. He was greeted with John peering up into the sky.

"It's stopped raining. Fancy a hot chocolate?"

Virgil smiled and nodded, crawling out through his tent-flap and standing erect, finally. John eyed him.

"You look slightly happier than you did earlier, little brother. Did you take a nap?"

Virgil shook his head.

"No, I was writing, actually."

John raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You? Something private?"

Virgil nodded.

"Yes, in a way. Let me help you get the fire going, and if you like, you can read it aloud to the others."

John nodded in understanding.

"Ah, I see. Catharsis, eh?"

Virgil smiled, looking up at the waterfall.

"Actually, yes John. It was very cathartic."


	12. Chapter 12 - Watching The Sparks

**AN:** **WARNING** **:** _ **In the latter part of this chapter there is mention of bullying which is not too graphic, but some might find it upsetting or possibly triggering.**_

 **Additional note:** _**Since school systems here in Britain are very different than they are in the US where the Tracys will have been educated, and my knowledge of US school system is exactly zero, I have endeavoured to use universal terms that apply everywhere…except for my use of the school Principal, which in Britain we generally call The Head Teacher**_ **.(** _ **at least in my day**_ **).**

The sun had set a long time since, and one by one the brothers had said their goodnights and retired into their tents for the night. Except for Scott and John. The fire was starting to burn itself out, reducing to glowing embers that still threw out the occasional spark and crackle.

Scott had been about to get up too when he noticed his immediately younger brother still sitting, staring into the dying flames. Scott could see the glowing of the fire reflected in his brother's eyes.

Without saying a word, he got up and poured out the last of Virgil's delicious cocoa into two tin mugs and handed one of them to John.

John looked up and blinked, suddenly brought back from wherever his mind had been.

"Thanks."

Scott squatted beside him and sipped at the cooling cocoa.

"You alright kid?"

John's mouth quirked into a reluctant half-smile.

"You haven't called me that in years."

"I haven't felt that I needed to. I recognize that expression. It's the expression of a man with a heavy load on his heart."

John was silent for a long time. Eventually, letting out his breath in a long hiss, he asked;

"Scott, when you think of the past, do you think mostly of all the good things? Or do you remember mostly the bad or unhappy things?"

Feeling like he had received a verbal `sock in the jaw', Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Well I don't know John. I try not to think about the bad or unhappy things at all, but I remember all of them."

"What do you remember? What bad things do you remember?"

Scott's heart sank.

"Are you sure you want to discuss those things? Isn't it better to focus on the happy or funny things?"

John shook his head.

"Scott, in an imperfect world, it is the negative things that happen and the way we deal with them that gives us our character. Makes us the people we truly are. For example, how many lives have we saved since International Rescue first came on line?"

Scott whistled softly.

"Must be dozens…hundreds even."

John nodded.

"If you like I can give you an exact figure. But, why did dad even consider creating a rescue organization anyway?"

"Because of the avalanche, and losing mom…"

Scott's eyebrows reached his hairline, and he turned to look his brother in the eyes. John was nodding.

"Exactly. Scott, the number of times I have wept in private because I've missed her so much. I just want her back so badly. I still miss mom so much that sometimes it feels like a physical pain."

Scott's heart welled up for his brother.

"Oh John!"

But John wasn't finished.

"No, but Scott, listen to me. Tell me this. International Rescue only exists because we lost our mom and nearly lost Alan. If we could somehow turn back time and change history, would you warn mom and dad not to go skiing, and save their lives? Make sure that we don't lose mom?"

Scott opened his mouth to nod the affirmative, but then paused. John was watching his expression and nodded sadly.

"Exactly, Scott. If it were possible to change history, we would get our mom back. But then International Rescue would never have existed. You would probably still be in the air force, I would be on Mars or Jupiter or somewhere with NASA, Virgil would be a professional artist or pianist, Gordon likely would be back with WASP, and Alan still on the racing circuit, breaking speed records every other week…"

Scott thought he could see where John was going with this.

"And all the people we have since rescued, would have died because we weren't there to save them."

John nodded.

"I forget the exact figures, but something close to seven thousand people alive today would be dead. Penny and Parker would be dead, buried in the tomb of the Laughing King, Captain Casey would have been killed on his moon base, Kayo would likely by now be consigned to serving the Hood forever, having nowhere else to go…"

He shook his head and drained his mug and turned to Scott.

"I've been sitting here, missing mom. Thinking how she would have really enjoyed this holiday. Knowing that changing history would involve the deaths of all those people hurts me, but it doesn't stop me wanting and wishing that we had never gone on that holiday."

Scott rested his forehead on John's, looking deep into the younger man's eyes.

"You are treading dangerous waters with that one, Johnny. You don't need me to give you the only true answer, do you?"

John shook his head.

"No. Accidents happen, and we can't change that however much we want to. But we make mom's death count for something. We save other people in her name."

"Exactly. And she would be very proud of us."

John smiled slightly.

"She would at that. So what other things do you remember, Scott?"

"You mean more bad or unhappy things?"

"Yes. Anything that hurts when you think about it."

There had been one or two. Or three. Or four. Which one should he pick out? One of the most prominent memories that always made Scott clench his teeth came to his mind. But what benefit would it bring to remind John of that now? John raised his eyes to meet his own, and he saw his brother nod once.

"You remember too. Clyde Winkelmann?"

Scott nodded.

"You still remember him?"

John laughed ironically.

"Some hope of forgetting! Tell me what you remember about Clyde?"

Scott thought back, long suppressed memories racing back to his mind.

* * *

 _He had been just a young boy at the time. Just ten years old. John had been eight, Virgil six and Gordon just four years old. At the time, Alan hadn't even been a twinkle in his parents' eyes. Clyde Winkelmann had been a thirteen-year-old bully from a neighbouring school that had had the habit of waiting in the Park near the Tracys' school to prey and pounce on any pupil going home without an adult. Any child he had preyed upon for some reason had all been too scared to tell on him and so Clyde and his cronies had begun to feel a sense of power._

 _Scott and his brothers were always taken to school by their mother, and collected afterwards, and so they had never been confronted by this particular challenge, until one day their mother had been laid up with a nasty stomach bug. Grandma had come round to keep house and watch Gordon, but since their father was at work until after six, and grandma felt unable to leave their mother alone, Scott had been entrusted with the task of taking himself and his two younger brothers the half-mile to school and bringing them home safely afterwards._

 _Scott was proud to be trusted; and was confident that he could manage to look after his little brothers safely. Everything went well, until the time came to go home. Their way home lay through the park, and because it was a beautiful day, Scott, John and Virgil were enjoying their stroll through the park until suddenly they were confronted by a strange boy. A boy almost twice Scott's size. Clyde._

 _He had demanded money from the boys. The boys had no money with them, since the way home was a safe walk without crossing any roads, and Scott had explained it politely._

 _Clyde had refused to take no for an answer, and had grabbed Scott by the arm and had started twisting it painfully._

 _"John! Virg, run back to school and get a teacher!"_

 _The two little boys had run as fast as they could for help. Just before he ran into the school gates, John had glanced back over his shoulder. The last thing he had seen was his beloved big brother Scott being pounded by the bullies._

 _They had found John's teacher, out at his car, putting a pile of reports and files into the back, and gasped out to him their troubles at the top of their voices. The teacher, Mister Hargrove had told the two boys to run into the school and fetch the Principal and he would rescue Scott. When Derek Hargrove reached the park, there were no bullies to be found, and young Scott Tracy had been literally stuffed into a nearby thorn bush. He was clearly in shock, badly bruised and shaken, and crying in fear._

 _The two teachers had taken care of John and Virgil, called the police and the boys' father, who had dropped everything and come running. He took his younger sons into his own care and followed the ambulance to the hospital, where Scott was declared to be badly shaken up and bruised, but otherwise not badly hurt. The cuts he had received from the thorns were dressed and covered and he was allowed to go home within a couple of hours._

 _Their mother and grandma had been frantic. Scott, however, had always remained stubbornly silent when asked about the bully responsible for his injuries. Even later, in private when John had tackled him about it, Scott had simply told him that the bully was gone, so forget about it. They had never even known his name!_

 _Scott was the big brother and knew everything. John had trusted him and did not mention it again. Clyde and his gang did not return to the park after that day, and so gradually things returned to normal. John and Virgil forgot their fear of the park and everything might have stayed fine…_

 _Until an unexpected fire in their school caused it to close down, and all the staff and pupils had to scatter and find other schools._

 _By this time, John was eleven, Virgil was nine, Gordon was seven and Scott was thirteen. As a twelve-year-old, Scott had experienced a sudden growth spurt, and had become tall, lanky and skinny, all knees and elbows; and had started playing football for his school team. He had become fast and strong._

 _The boys had been having a difficult time, having lost their mother just a year earlier. With dad having to work, grandma and grandpa at home taking care of baby Alan, the four older boys took themselves to school every day on the bus, under Scott's supervision. He dropped them at their respective classes before going off to his own._

 _Then one day, John was not waiting for Scott outside his classroom as normal. Scott ordered Virgil to watch Gordon whilst he searched for John. Scott searched, his two brothers trailing after him. Finally, he spotted three bigger boys crowded together behind the groundsman's hut, and he ran over to look. What he saw made his teeth clench in anger, and his blood boil._

 _John was being held upside down by the ankles, everything he owned scattered on the floor around him, whilst the gang laughed and jeered. At the head of the gang was the bully who had beaten up Scott three years earlier._

 _"Go on Clyde! Get him good!" they were calling out. Scott found his hands curl into fists, but before he could move, a tiny blond bundle of fury sped past him and aimed a kick at the kneecap of the bully holding John's ankles. It was Seven-year-old Gordon, angrier than Scott had ever seen him._

 _"You leave my brother alone!" he screamed at them, aiming a kick at the other knee. The bully dropped John with a shout of anger, and kicked out, but Virgil was there and grabbed the boy's foot and ripped his shoe off and threw it with all his might over the fence and into the road, darting back out of the angry boy's reach._

 _Scott stepped forward. These boys were sixteen years old, belonging to one of the upper school classes. He selected his former persecutor with his eyes. He spoke quietly._

 _"Gordon, Virgil, beside me. John are you alright?"_

 _John had landed on his head, and although it hadn't been a big fall, the eleven year old was clearly still dazed. He scrabbled to his feet and nodded._

 _"I'm alright Scott."_

 _He stood beside his brothers, his hands jammed into his now empty pockets. The three younger Tracys waited for Scott to speak. The bullies were still laughing and jeering, but at the sight of the four younger boys stood together, showing anger on their faces rather than fear, they were starting to falter slightly._

 _"I remember you, runt." Clyde spat at Scott. Scott looked him up and down._

 _"I remember you too. Now I know your name and how to find you. You beat me up properly when I was ten and half your size and weight. I'm not half your size any more. Do you fancy trying it now? I reckon if you start to fight me, your mates will run away."_

 _"So will yours."_

 _Scott glanced at Gordon._

 _"Will you run away if Clyde tries to beat me up, Squirt?"_

 _Gordon shook his head vigorously._

 _"No way!"_

 _Scott glanced at John, then at Virgil. They each locked gazes with Clyde and folded their arms slowly and deliberately across their chests. Clyde's two companions glanced at the four brothers and shook their heads._

 _"Come on Clyde, this ain't worth it." One of them declared. " I want to get into a decent college and I won't if I get myself expelled for fighting!"_

 _They each gave Scott a respectful nod, and left. Left alone, Clyde took a step back, his hands raised in a placatory gesture._

 _"No trouble, okay? Your friend can have his money back."_

 _Scott glanced at his brothers, who moved silently until Clyde suddenly found he was surrounded. Scott stepped up close to him, and whispered loudly into his ear._

 _"These are not just my friends, Clyde, they are my brothers. That means that they will always be here to back me up, and I will always be around to back them up. And Clyde…what you don't realize is that what you see isn't all of us. There are actually five of us. Not four. Five. If you touch or even go near any of my brothers again, you will have five of us to worry about. If you think I have grown a lot since you last saw me, you wait until you see our Alan. He must eat his weight in food every day, because he has more than doubled his size in the last year alone. You really don't want to go up against all of us."_

 _Clyde backed away further. Scott took another step forward._

 _"And Clyde…you remember three years ago when you beat me up so bad you put me in hospital? I promised the police and my father that if I ever remembered you, I would tell them who was responsible."_

 _Clyde turned and ran._

 _When Johnny turned puzzled eyes to Scott and whispered,_

" _Scotty, Alan will be no use in a fight yet. He's still a baby!"_

 _Scott had laughed joyfully._

 _"I know Johnny, but Clyde doesn't need to know that!"_

* * *

John nodded as Scott finished reminiscing.

"That is a perfect example, Scott. Do you remember anything more about Clyde after that day?"

Scott shook his head.

"He seemed to disappear into the background after that. Everyone had been afraid of him up until then, but afterwards he stopped bullying kids."

John grinned.

"Scott, that was because we stood up to him. We were all so much younger than him, but we stood side by side and stood up to him. Bullies are cowards. He ran away from us. Everyone copied us after that and stood up to him. No bully can be a bully if people stand up to them and refuse to be intimidated."

Scott grinned and nodded.

"You're absolutely right John…but why bring this up now? What does this have to do with…?"

"Scott, we were talking about the fact that even when bad things happen, we can use the experience to make things turn out good. Like losing mom led to International Rescue, and thousands of lives being saved. Your being beaten up at the age of ten led to Clyde being stopped, because even though he was never punished for what he did to you…or to me for that matter, we proved to him and to ourselves that by standing together, even though we were younger and smaller than him, we could defeat him, and we saved lots of other kids from being bullied."

Scott thought long and hard, and his blue eyes caught John's green ones. John was smiling at him, but expectantly. He was still waiting for the punchline. The theme, the whole point of this discussion. He frowned, then grinned at his younger brother.

"You are a very wise man, my brother. The point you are making is that Clyde Winkelmann is in part responsible for the success of International Rescue, because it was standing together in front of him that taught us always to stay very close as brothers; and we taught that to Alan too."

John nodded.

"That's part of it."

Scott's grin widened.

"You were thinking about all the bad things that have happened in our lives. That is in part why we are out here isn't it? Coming to terms with all the bad things that have happened to us. You're saying that we shouldn't be trying to forget all of those things, banish them somehow. You're saying that our response to bad things reveals things about our character, and can teach us things like love, endurance, and caring for each other. We should instead see what we can learn from those things. Use them to appreciate our blessings even more."

John's smile lit up his face.

"That's it, Scott. We've all still got things on our minds, nightmares that won't go. I think if we can learn to change the way we are viewing those things, it will help us to recover, and make us into better people."

"I hope it will be as easy as you make it sound."

John returned to staring into the now almost dead fire.

"No, it won't be easy. Far from it. But with each other's help, we can do it."

Side by side, the two brothers watched, as the last golden and red embers of the fire sparked and died, leaving them basking in the light of the Milky Way above them.


	13. Chapter 13 - Tears on the Pillow

_**AN: I have never written quite in this style before, so it is very new to me. Please enjoy!**_

I've woken up too early for some reason. The wind is up, and I can hear the tent flapping around me. Alan is still suffering nightmares pretty bad, and is still sharing my tent, although he is, fortunately, in his own sleeping-bag. He seems to be pretty peaceful right now though, so I don't want to wake him up. I put my hands beneath my head, and just start thinking quietly about this amazing time we have been having, just the five of us brothers together, camping.

My brothers and I have done so much talking since we've been camping.

We came away to relax and chase away all the demons, all the stresses of the last few days and weeks. We walk, we camp, we build a fire, sing songs, talk over our worries or our sorrows. We even talk over our memories. That has caused the odd sniffle on its own!

Since Alan was born the same day our mom died, he has no memory of her at all. We never believed that he could possibly suffer grief like the rest of us. I mean, how can you grieve for someone you have never known? He had never really said very much about the subject, and so we all assumed that everything was fine.

What a wake-up call we all had that day when we realized that all of his life our poor little Allie had been blaming himself for mom's death! Thinking that if he hadn't been born she might still have been alive. Blaming himself for the rest of us losing our mom and having to put up with him instead. We quickly quashed that notion flat. I can honestly say that none of us felt that way about our Alan.

True, we had all been devastated when mom died from complications during the birth, but we all knew that was in no way the baby's fault. How could it be? We actually saw Alan as a precious gift, something so precious that mom was even willing to die to give him to us. How could we ever not treasure and value him?

As for me, I had always been the baby of the family until Alan arrived, and so he was a doubly special gift for me, because not only was he someone to care for, for mom's sake, he was a new brother, and he was _my little brother_ as well! I was no longer the baby, and I had someone that I could look after!

But going back to Alan not knowing mom, we had never quite realized how much he had missed out on until dad got out all those old family movies, and we spent an entire evening watching ourselves as tiny kids talking and playing with mom. For Alan, mom became more than just a still photo on the sitting room wall. She became a real person to him.

Someone he had lost.

Someone he grew to love, not only through our stories, but through seeing her with his own eyes on the old home videos.

Suddenly, Alan was grieving for mom, and for him it was as though he had only just lost her.

I'm only thinking about that now, because among all the nightmares Alan has been having, has been a recurring dream about us and mom. In his dream, we keep rejecting him because of losing her at his birth, and he invariably wakes up shaking and crying.

It's heartbreaking.

The first time he told us of this dream, he was visibly shaking, as though scared that we were going to finally admit that the dream was right after all. We all crowded him and hugged him tightly and made sure that he had no doubt at all how much he is valued and loved.

When he dreamed the same dream the following night and woke up weeping aloud, we were all so upset, that even Scott had tears in his eyes. John and Virgil insisted on sleeping with Alan that night, but none of our tents are big enough for three adult men, so in the end the five of us slept out under the stars that night, all huddled together, with Alan in the middle.

It isn't that Alan doesn't believe us, we all understand that. I suppose though, that having believed a certain thing all of your life and then learning you were wrong, it can take a little while to sink in. We slept outside for six nights in a row (and boy was it cold!), but huddling together, wrapped up in our bags, and all surrounding Alan tightly, on the sixth night he did not have that dream.

He still had some of his other nightmares, but that rejection dream about us had finally been banished.

To my knowledge he's not had it since then, but it's early days. It's only been three days since the last time, so we are all hoping that he is now feeling a lot more secure on that point anyway.

About three hours ago, it was John's turn to wake up screaming. I guess he has as much reason as Alan, but John has always been the type to keep his nightmares to himself. I mean he tells us about them, but he's never really been given to muttering, screaming or crying in his sleep, and if a dream wakes him up, it is generally silently.

John is the one of us who does always tend to suffer in silence. The fact is, this time it was still not actually a scream as such, but a loud yell. It was enough to wake us all up though. We all poked our heads out of our tents and watched as Scott crawled into John's tent to check our red-head was alright.

It turns out he found John sat up hugging his knees, rocking himself to and fro, tears pouring down his cheeks.

Poor John. I think he did tell Scott about his dream, but Scott would not tell the rest of us. He says John will tell us himself when he is ready to face it. In the meantime, John, like Alan, will appreciate a little company, so he has moved his sleeping bag into Scott's tent. Scott will take good care of John, I have no doubt about that.

I think we've all had our fair share of nightmares. The Hood tried to destroy us all, and although he failed, he did do us a lot of damage.

Thinking about those few weeks, the Hood almost destroyed Tracy Industries, he did destroy Thunderbird Five, although fortunately at a time when John was down on the island with us; he almost succeeded in destroying the reputation of International Rescue! He was the cause of John and Alan both being badly hurt; Alan was in a coma for weeks! Then he attacked us all again at the hospital and put John back into a coma along with grandma and myself. Evidence Penny turned up also revealed that it was the Hood who was responsible for dad's disappearance. Well, we always knew that much, but the Hood thought he had killed dad, and was mad as a box of cats when he found out dad was alive after all. I mean, the Hood even attacked Kayo, _his own flesh and blood!_

It is scary to think that that lunatic is still on the loose. He's bound to be planning something else, and it is almost certain to involve trying to destroy us! I wouldn't put anything past that maniac!

When Virgil's fiancée Connie was killed by a hit and run a few months ago just a couple of days before their wedding, my first thought was "It was the Hood!"

Alright, maybe I'm wrong about that, but he would do it in a flash if he thought he could somehow use it to destroy us!

That is one theory I dare not speak aloud to anyone, especially to Virgil. The poor guy is only just starting to learn to live with his loss. I dread to think what it would do to him if it ever did turn out that Connie's death was anything but a tragic accident.

Alright, enough thinking. I'm starting to depress myself now, and that would never do. Ah, Alan's starting to wake up.

I turn over and lean on one elbow, facing my little brother. Alan opens one eye and I give him a silent little wave. He opens the other and gives me a grin.

"Hiya bro. Sleep okay?"

He sits up and nods, yawning widely.

"Yeah, in the end. Worried about Johnny though. Did he wake up again?"

I shrug.

"I don't know. I didn't hear anything after he went in with Scott. Let's get the fire going and get some coffee on. Maybe later he'll be ready to talk to us?"

Alan nods, and we pull our jeans on and crawl outside to light the fire. The sun is just peeping over the horizon, and sending golden rays that make our little camp look really special. I glance across at Alan, and he winks at me and gestures behind me. I look round to see Virgil's head sticking out through his tent flap. He too is yawning widely.

"Morning Gordy." He says to me through his yawn. "Coffee?"

I nod.

"Come on Virge. Alan's lighting the fire. I'll make the coffee if you'll fry the bacon. I'm sure that will wake up our two sleeping beauties back there."

Virgil stood up, clad in his boxers and gives me a lopsided grin. He narrows his eyes at the amazing sunrise, and holds up a hand.

"Hold on the bacon, guys. I have to paint that sunrise first thing!"

I grin as he hurries back into his tent for his painting things. Yup, I reckon today is going to be a good day.


	14. The Luckiest Big Brother In The World

Something was wrong. Scott had no idea what it was, but his _big brother_ sense was on super-high alert. Had he heard a noise? Possibly that was it, but even as he turned over in his sleeping-bag and closed his eyes again, he knew it would be no good. He just would not be able to go back to sleep until he knew for certain what was causing this buzzing in his head, the damp palms, the inner certainty that one of his brothers needed him.

Darn it, there really was no choice. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, pulled his trainers on his bare feet and grabbed his jacket, then crawled out of his tent. He stood up and looked around.

The five small tents were pitched on the bank of a large lake situated at the foot of a tall hill…or a small mountain; whichever way you chose to look at it. To himself and Virgil, it was simply a fair-sized hill. To Alan and Gordon with their youth and energy it was barely a mole-hill. To John and his still healing knee, it might as well have been Mount Everest.

The poor guy had refused to give in to the pain, and his dignity or was it stubborn pride had led him to refuse to allow his brothers to either carry him or to set up camp for two days in the atrocious weather on the summit, simply because of his disability.

They had all tried persuading him and reasoning with him that this was _his_ holiday as well as theirs, they _wanted_ his company, and they were unwilling to do anything that he could not do. Climbing the hill had been painful for John, but he had been fresh and eager. They had enjoyed a couple of hours on the top of the hill, eating, playing games and ragging one another, enjoying the breathtaking scenery from an incredible vantage point. Until thick white cloud cover and icy-cold fog wrapped itself around them, blinding them and freezing them to the core. As one they had all voted to continue their journey to the foot of the hill where they would find the lake they had been heading for. A lake where fish the size of submarines was freely available to catch for food; and the weather was usually warm, in the shelter of the surrounding hills.

By the time they began their descent, however, it was mid-afternoon, and John had already begun to tire. Going down, he found, was way harder than going up. Having to constantly fight against the pull of gravity that kept threatening to pull him over on his weakened leg and hurtle him downhill the quickest way. The way that would have left him seriously hurt or dead. His speed had become slower and slower, until Virgil was reduced to threatening his older brother with anesthetic and a stretcher for the rest of the day unless he agreed to a half-hour rest and some strong pain-killers. John had pouted, and complained, but the pain in his knee was clearly getting to him so much that on close up, they could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

Needless to say, everyone was relieved for John's sake when they reached their proposed camp-site. They were planning to stay here for at least three days, so hopefully John would have ample time to rest his knee.

Scott hoped it was not John whom had awakened him. He peeked into John's tent, but his red-headed brother was sleeping peacefully, his painful knee resting on Alan's spare sweaters and his parka, all rolled into a comfortable looking cushion. Scott smiled slightly; and peeped into the next tent. Virgil was still in his green sleeping-bag, but rather than laying straight out on his bed-roll, only his feet were still on the comfortable pad. The rest of his body was splayed uncomfortably across his scattered belongings, making him look like a giant, fat caterpillar. His mouth was open, and he was snoring loudly. Scott chuckled silently to himself and withdrew.

The next tent he checked was Alan's tent. It was empty, but he had been expecting that. Due to the horrific nature of some of Alan's nightmares recently, he had been bunking with Gordon for several nights, with Gordon's blessing. Perhaps Alan had had another bad dream? If he was with Gordo, then Gordon would help him. A quick double check wouldn't go amiss. He tiptoed to Gordon's tent and opened the flap. Alan was sleeping soundly inside, but Gordon was missing. Something clenched in Scott's heart. He _had_ heard something. It must have been Gordon creeping out. He closed the tent flap and straightened up and looked around.

The sky was clear, and although the moon was not visible, there were so many stars twinkling in the heavens above them, that he could see reasonably well. He strolled towards the shore of the lake. Even Gordon their resident water-baby would not venture to swim in a strange lake in the middle of the night with no one around to help him if he got into difficulties. But, if he was wakeful or troubled, there was no doubt that the water would call to him. Sure enough, as he stood close to the water's edge, he spied a hunched figure on the bank a short way off, sat hugging his knees. Scott walked over to the hunched figure and sat beside him. Gordon half turned and gave him a nod; but said nothing. He was staring out across the lake. Scott was uncertain what to make of the expression on his face. He seemed thoughtful, contemplative, even. Perhaps depressed, although in the darkness, Scott couldn't tell for sure. Something was wrong though. His big brother sense was still screaming at him.

"Stars are beautiful out here." Scott said softly after a while. Gordon glanced up as though he had forgotten they were there; and nodded.

"Stars are beautiful at home."

Scott nodded.

"True, but we're usually too exhausted at home to sit up stargazing…unless your name happens to be Alan or John, that is."

Gordon gave a reluctant grin, but it did not reach his eyes, and he heaved a long sigh.

"So, are you going to sit here all night with me, big brother, or are you going to ask me the question I can hear spinning about in your mind?"

"Are you planning on sitting out here all night, Gords? You've clearly got something on your mind."

Gordon nodded.

"That wasn't the question, Scott, but for a beginning it will do. The answer is I don't know. I can't stop thinking and worrying. Usually I am able to distract myself with…things…you know. But somehow out here it isn't the time or place, and I…"

"We are all too sick, injured and traumatized for you to feel right about pranking us just yet? Tell me you're not affected too? All of us are."

Gordon nodded.

"I guess."

"Is it one of us in particular that is keeping you awake, or are we all equally responsible?"

Gordon simply shrugged and folding his arms over his knees, he dropped his chin onto his hands. Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"You're welcome to talk about it, Gords. That is one of the reasons we're out here isn't it? To face and talk through…things."

"And risk coming over all mushy?"

Scott chuckled.

"That's all a part of the deal bro. Don't become all `tough guy' on me now Gordon, or we'll be out here in the wilderness for the next five years."

That caught Gordon's attention and he turned his head with a slightly confused "Huh?" Scott grinned.

"The number one rule we all agreed to is that we stay out here until our issues have all been faced and dealt with. We are all happy, healthy and eager when we return home. If one of us is not, we all stay out here to help him."

"And if the one suffering refuses to talk about his problem?"

"Hey Gordon."

Scott's voice was gentle and kind, but firm, and somehow impelled his little brother to turn and look at him.

"Gordon, you're not immune to problems yourself, are you? When something happens to send your life plummeting down to the depths, do you run over to talk to us about it right away? How often do you even respond right away when we try to get you to talk?"

Gordon thought about that and nodded. It usually took him a few days of silence and moodiness, trying to handle things alone before one of his brothers would be successful in persuading him to open up. Scott nodded, seeing Gordon was with him.

"Exactly, Gordon. Sometimes it takes us a few days to come to the realization ourselves that first, we have a problem and second, that we are unable to handle it without help. In the meantime, we are all here together. Proper quality time as brothers…"

"For the first time in years." Gordon agreed. "Okay Scott, I give you that. But it just hurts so much, you know? I can see the pain in their eyes, and they won't open up, or refuse to admit to the pain. It makes me want to weep for them."

His hands balled up into fists and he pounded the ground in furious helplessness.

"it makes me angry!"

Scott said nothing but raised his eyebrows questioningly. His brother pounded the ground a second time, then slowly and deliberately opened his hand out and flexed his palms.

"See, I know I'm being foolish, but I am angry that my brothers are all hurting, and I can't do a d…!"

Gordon broke off, and shook his head, then turned his body slightly so that he was sitting facing his brother, sideways to the lake.

"John was almost in tears with his knee today and why? Because he was too damn stubborn or proud to let us help him? His dreams are almost as tortured and broken as Alan's. He has nightmares every night too Scott, and he sure as hell is not dreaming of a broken knee. What the hell is it Scott? Why won't he talk?"

Scott remained silent, knowing that if he were to say something now, he would only stifle Gordon's flow of words. But the younger man had more on his mind, spilling over into words that Scott was anxious not to interrupt until Gordon was finished. He simply moved closer to his brother, looking him in the eyes.

"Then there's Allie." Gordon continued with barely a pause. "Did you know he cries in his sleep every night, Scott? His dreams seem so vivid they have to be memories. What the hell is that kid going through every night? He's hasn't told us the half of it, Scott. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to lie there awake hearing him crying like that, knowing that I can't comfort him the way I want to?"

He got to his feet, wrapping his arms around his middle, as though trying to derive some personal comfort somehow. Scott got up and enfolded his little brother in a hug.

"Go on, bro. I'm listening." He whispered in Gordon's ear, his heart breaking. Gordon pulled away from the hug and seemed to slump at the shoulders.

"How well do you remember Connie Hayes, Scott?"

Scott nodded sadly.

"Pretty well…"

Gordon shook his head.

"Not nearly as well as Virgil. Virgil has every detail of her face, everything about her seared into his memory. He remembers even the smell of her perfume, the smell of her sweat after a workout…he could predict her reactions to almost anything. They were two days away from their wedding, Scott. _Two days_ , and he lost her! Virgil is not the type to talk or cry in his sleep, so if he has a nightmare, he is usually able to hide it from the rest of us, so I don't know if he is having nightmares too, but I would bet that he is. Dreaming about John and Alan being tortured and hurt by the Hood and dreaming about losing Connie and all the things that they dreamt of that won't happen now. I see it in his eyes whenever he thinks no one is looking. Scott, Virgil wears his heart on his sleeve, we all know that, but I have not seen him weep for Connie since her funeral. And please don't tell me that it is because he is over her, because I know that that is just… _bull!_ "

Scott nodded.

"He's not drawn or painted for weeks, no singing either. He smiles easily only not with the eyes…"

"He's in pain too Scott, and he's hiding it from us. I don't know what we could do to help him, but what does he think he protecting us from? I hate it that he is still hurting even after two weeks away and he still won't…"

Gordon broke off and turned to Scott almost accusatory in manner.

"And you!"

Scott blinked at the digit that prodded his chest.

"You are the worst of all of us! You never tell anyone anything! You're so good at being the heroic and helpful big brother, making us all talk and show you our hurts so that you can kiss us all better, but when do you ever open up to anyone except Virgil?"

Scott remembered breaking down in front of his brothers only a few days ago and shuddered at the memory. Gordon noticed the slight shudder and correctly guessed its import.

"It embarrasses you to be human doesn't it, Scott? You can be open to Virgil and show your feelings, simply because that's the sort of guy Virgil is. But with the rest of us you seem to want to come across as some kind of superman or something. We know the Hood hurt you back there Scott. He hurt you through us, and through Kayo, but you have always had stuff on your mind. Like, you've been running the company and IR since dad vanished, and done a great job, but the stress you must have been under is scary to think about. Are your shoulders really so wide? Now dad's back and you act in front of us as though you're fine with him taking charge again as though he had never been away?"

"He didn't abandon us, Gordon."

"I know that, but the fact remains that he would have had nothing at all to come back to if it had not been for you, Scott."

Scott frowned and raised his baby brother's chin with his finger.

"Does dad taking over really bother you, Gordon?"

Gordon shrugged, then shook his head.

"Nah not really. After all, he's dad. He created everything. I just know that it bothered the hell out of you at first, but you never said a thing to any of us. Maybe you talked to dad or someone else. That really isn't my business, but my point is you tend to keep everything inside you, and yet you insist on making us talk. We care about you too Scott! Care between brothers goes both ways! Little brothers worry about big brothers as well!"

Scott nodded slowly, taking in the figure of his second youngest brother. Gordon. Slender, well-muscled, the family joker and prankster who was always smiling, always with a ready joke or pun on his lips. Now he was standing, facing the lake, hunching over slightly, hugging himself as though that were the only source of comfort he could find. Scott felt like his heart was shattering, and he blinked back tears.

"Gordon, I…"

Gordon turned at the catch in his voice, and a moment later, the two brothers hugged tightly. Finally, sitting close together facing the lake, they watched the moon rise from behind the hills and Scott drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"So, you know what is on all of our minds, Gordon. Tell me what is on yours? What is it that worries you? Or are your brothers the only things you have on your mind?"

Gordon chuckled.

"My brothers are always my biggest worries, Scott. My biggest worry would always be what kind of hell my life would be if I ever lost any of you. I guess at the end of the day, whatever we are all traumatized about all has the same cause."

Scott nodded.

"The Hood."

"Except for Connie's death. That was a really horrible accident."

"A hit-and-run is never an accident, Gordon. It's manslaughter at the very least…"

"Will Virgil be alright, Scott? I hate the thought of Virgil suffering over Connie the way dad suffered after losing mom."

"Dad had five little boys to take care of, but only his mother to take care of him. Virgil has no one but himself to worry about, and four brothers, a sister, a dad and a grandma to care for him. He'll never stop grieving for her, Gords, no one ever does. But, he'll eventually learn to smell the roses again."

"You reckon he'll get back to composing that symphony?"

"Of course he will, Gords. That _is_ what brothers are for, right? We'll all be here for him, just as we are for Alan, and John…and you."

"But not for you?"

Scott smiled.

"You guys will always be here for me, Gordon. I know that. I am the luckiest big brother in the world."

Gordon dug his big brother in the ribs with his elbow.

"And don't you ever forget it, big brother."

They stood up and headed back to the camp. Gordon paused by the burnt out remains of their campfire and smiled at Scott.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Yeah, Gords?"

"As big brothers go, you're definitely one of the best. Thanks bro."

Scott watched his baby brother drop to his knees and crawl back into his tent, his smile growing. Yes, he was definitely the luckiest big brother in the world!


	15. Chapter 15 - The First Gift

**AN:** _**This tale is set right at the beginning of the Tracy boys' camping holiday. Day three or four; approximately two days after the events outlined in chapter One. This chapter is dedicated to Gumnut who left me a review that sent my plot bunnies whizzing. (Thanks, Nutty!)**_

Alan Tracy flopped down on the ground, beads of perspiration peppering his brow.

"Phew, I'm whacked!" he exclaimed, undoing the buckles that fastened his back-pack and letting it flop to the ground behind him, and then leaning back on it. "I'm about ready for a snooze."

Virgil gave Alan's pack an unexpected tug, causing his youngest brother to hit the floor with a thump.

"Not yet you're not!" he muttered thickly, "There are five tents to put up, fish to catch, water to collect and a fire to build. Since he is still in a lot of pain with his knee, only John gets to rest. You get up now and get to work. Rest later!"

He grabbed the empty water butt and a large net and stomped off towards the river. Alan sat up rubbing his head, staring after his brother, his brow wrinkled in a puzzled frown. Gordon knelt beside him.

"Are you alright Al? You hit the ground with a bang!"

Alan nodded.

"Yeah, just bruised I guess. Is Virgil alright? He's been growling for a couple of days now. It isn't like him."

"He's definitely not himself." Gordon agreed. "Come on Alan, the sooner we get camp set up, the sooner we can eat. I'm starved!"

Whilst Scott built the campfire, Gordon and Alan erected the five tents in a semi-circle, all facing towards the fire at a safe distance. Once the belongings of each brother had been placed in their tents, they found the fire had been built and Virgil had brought back the large can of water for John to make drinks for everyone.

"Can we help, John?" Alan asked him. John shook his head, smiling at his little brother.

"Nah, I got this. Scott's helping Virgil to catch some fish for supper. You can check out how they're doing and tell them there is a pot of hot chocolate keeping warm back here."

Alan scuttled off. Gordon sat beside John. John noticed the line between his eyes and gave him a nudge.

"You okay?"

Gordon nodded, but the line between his eyes deepened further.

"Something's up. Care to share? Big brother privilege?"

Gordon had to smile.

"I was thinking about Virgil, that's all. I suppose you saw the way he spoke to Alan earlier?"

John nodded.

"Yes."

Gordon looked up at him.

"I can't help being worried about him, John. Virgil's been under as much strain as the rest of us, but he isn't usually aggressive like _that._ Something has to be wrong."

"I know. Perhaps we should make it the subject of one of our `round the campfire' sessions tonight?"

"So long as we don't upset him and make things worse."

"Well Gords, talking things through openly was one of our main reasons for getting away together. Virgil agreed as readily as the rest of us."

Gordon nodded, but said nothing. Presently, John asked;

"Was Alan upset?"

"With Virgil? No. He's worrying about him though."

"Virgil almost never gets aggressive. He must be suffering. We'll try and get him to open up to us tonight."

That evening, the five brothers ate their fish supper in subdued silence. Virgil's sour mood casting a pall over the camp. Alan, Gordon and John had discussed between them how they would try to approach their brother without upsetting him, but somehow with Virgil sitting beside them, he seemed not aggressive so much as weak and vulnerable. Out of all of them, Virgil had always been the one to find it hardest hiding his emotions. Clearly his aggressiveness earlier had been an attempt at covering over some deep emotion.

Their hearts were aching for him, but none of them knew quite how to begin. To their surprise however, it was Scott who set the ball rolling. They had not had the opportunity to speak to their eldest brother alone all afternoon.

Scott snapped a twig and threw it into the fire, making it crackle flare for a moment.

"So, guys, its confession time again. Whose turn is it tonight?"

There was a silence. Virgil had been staring moodily into the heart of the flames, paying little or no attention to anything going on around him. He was struck by the sudden silence. He looked round and frowned as he realized that everyone was looking at him.

"What? What's wrong? Have I got a spot on my nose or something?"

"Virg," Scott said gently, "it seems that you have been chosen as the one to talk to us tonight."

Virgil shook his head moodily and continued to stare into the fire. When the silence continued, he looked up and found his brothers were still watching him with varying expressions of love or sympathy. His frowned deepened.

"What? Would you all quit staring?"

"Virg, it sounds to me like you have something you need to get off your chest." John told him gently.

"Really? Like what?" The aggressive tone was stark, their middle brother's eyes ranging around them, almost haunted.

Scott rested the tips of his fingers on Virgil's arm for a moment as he looked him in the eye.

"You know what, Virgil. One of us has upset you, and we can't even begin to put it right until you tell us what it was."

Virgil stared at Scott for several long seconds, then he seemed to deflate. He finally gave a nod, then looked away, staring into the fire once again.

"It was you, Scott."

Scott was aghast. He locked eyes with John, Gordon and Alan who returned looks of sympathy. Scott would never hurt any of them if he could help it. The thought that he might have inadvertently upset Virgil to this degree filled him with horror.

"Me? God, I'm sorry Virg. What on earth did I do? Or was it something I said? Please forgive me brother, and tell me what it was?"

Virgil shook his head, but he didn't look up.

"It _was_ something you said, but it isn't your fault Scott."

"What was it Virg?"

"You were telling us about Neil."

The brothers thought back. The first conversation they had had around the campfire had been to ask Scott why he was such a smother-hen. That was when he had revealed to them that they had had another brother. An older brother called Neil, who had died many years before. Neil's existence had been a complete shock to Virgil, Gordon and Alan who had had no idea about him. Scott exchanged a glance with John. John had been only two when Neil was killed in an accident, but he still remembered him pretty well.

"What is it Virgil?"

Virgil looked up from his lap and looked from Scott to John and back again.

"Why did no one ever tell us about him sooner? Why were the three of us never told about him? How could you let him die from the family this way, Scott?"

Scott let out a shaky sigh.

"It wasn't my decision, Virgil. Mom and dad…there are plenty of photos of him at home. They were locked away until the time that mom and dad felt you guys were ready to be told. I guess that day just never came. Then mom died, and that made it even harder to face…"

He glanced hopelessly to John.

"It was never a secret, Virg. But I think they decided it would make things easier if you never had to handle it."

Virgil nodded slowly.

"I was deliberately not told, because you said they day he was killed by that car, mom and dad were at the hospital because _I_ was being born. He died on my birthday."

Scott nodded.

"I think mom and dad figured that if you knew that the day you arrived, we lost Neil, you would grow up feeling bad about yourself, that you were some kind of…I don't know…"

"A poor substitute?" Virgil supplied. Scott nodded.

"Yes. Losing Neil was a tragic accident, but it could have happened anytime."

"It hurts that all my life, every time my birthday came around, you were all secretly missing Neil, and thinking about what he would have been doing if he had still been alive."

John nodded.

"That's true Virgil, but you know what we always said about Neil? How proud and happy he would be if he could see you now. The love we could no longer give to Neil, we poured into you instead. You helped to heal us, Virgil. You filled part of the hole that he left behind, and Scott…"

"I vowed to be the best big brother to you and John to make him proud. I don't know what he would think of me, Virg, but Neil would be so proud of you."

Virgil wiped something from his eye and nodded.

"Thanks guys…it just…I…"

"What is it?"

"I just feel like from now on I am going to feel guilty every year on my birthday because that means one more year that he has missed out on."

"I know the feeling." Alan said, wiping away tears of his own. Virgil glanced at him.

"How could _you_ know how I feel, Alan?"

Alan swallowed something, feeling all his brothers' eyes on him. He could feel the sympathy emanating from John and Gordon, and the love from Scott. Virgil still seemed slightly hostile. He leaned forward, looking Virgil in the eyes, then suddenly unable to face the naked emotion there, he looked down.

"Virgil, I have always known how that feels. To have someone you love die, the day you were born. The day I was born… we lost…" Alan's voice broke. Virgil's eyes widened.

"We lost mom!" Virgil breathed.

FAB

Alan and Virgil sat side by side on the bank of the river, the bright moon above them reflected in the bubbling water.

"I'm sorry Alan. You've lived all your life knowing that you shared your birthday with the death of a loved one."

Alan nodded.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I never knew her. You knew mom, Virgil. Did it ever bother you that you lost mom and got me instead?"

Virgil looked at his hands, as he considered how to respond. Then he looked at his youngest brother with a genuine sad smile.

"I'd be lying if I said no. I was a little kid. I was only five years old or something, and at the time I was missing my mom, and I couldn't see how you could ever take her place. I hated you at first."

"How long for?" Alan asked him, wide eyed in surprise. Virgil grinned.

"Oh, about two hours. Scott made me see how much you needed me because I had memories of mom that I could always treasure. He told me you wouldn't even have that. When dad started to be a dad again, we all made a deal. Every year on your birthday, instead of crying for mom's death and making you unhappy, we would celebrate mom's life, and the last gift she gave to us."

"Last gift?"

Virgil nodded, smiling.

"You Alan."

Alan smiled and rested his head on Virgil's shoulders.

"So that is what we need to do for our big brother Neil then Virg. Every year on your birthday, we celebrate Neil's life. It was Neil who taught Scott how to be a good big brother. If it hadn't been for Neil, it might have been _Scott_ who was killed by that car."

"Neil was mom's first gift to us, and you were her last gift."

"All of us are gifts from mom to dad."

The two young men glanced round as John sat down beside them. He was looking up into the night sky.

"Did you know they discover new stars every day?"

Alan and Virgil raised their eyebrows, and grinning, they nodded.

"We've heard that." Virgil replied. "Why do you say that?"

John brought his gaze back down to earth.

"When we go home, I want to name a new star after our original big brother."

Alan raised his eyebrows.

"What, Neil Armstrong? I think it might confuse people."

John shook his head.

"No. Hadiah Pertama Lucille."

"What does that mean?"

"It means `Lucille's first gift' in Malay."

"That would be awesome, John."

Virgil nodded.

"Mom would love it too John. I would be a perfect way to keep his memory alive forever."

John got to his feet and held out his hands to his two brothers.

"Then we'll do it when we go home. What say you come back to camp and help me finish off the toasted mallows?"


	16. Chapter 16 - Oh, Johnny!

Scott emerged from his tent just as the sun was sending the first rays of dawn over the distant horizon. The scant trees on this flat plain meant that the sun, as it began to appear seemed huge. He smirked at the old movie cliché of a hero riding into the sunset, and wondered briefly whether that could apply to a sun _rise_ as well?

At this time of the morning, it was pretty much guaranteed that his brothers would all still be sleeping heavily. He could hear Virgil's snores very clearly, almost making his tent-flaps vibrate. It would be another four hours or so before _he_ was likely to emerge. Had there been a lake nearby, or any body of water large enough, it was likely that Gordon would be up already and swimming but seeing as they were on a dry desert plain right here, he would roll over and dream about swimming instead.

The nearby river they had been following upstream had started out wide and wild, but now had dwindled into little more than a stream, that bubbled its way across the rocky, sandy ground. They brothers had taken care to keep to the rather winding path of the stream, since they had long since exhausted their personal water supplies, and now by peering into the distance, the foothills they had been heading for were in sight, rising up majestically, seemingly right over their heads. In reality, however, Scott knew that it would still take them several hours hiking to reach them. Once they reached the hills, provided they did not lose their way, they should reach grandpa Tracy's old fishing cabin by nightfall. There they would find running water, an emergency food supply, (including chocolate), plentiful fish in the lake, a roof over their heads and soft mattresses to sleep on. _If_ they kept to the proper track.

Scott had gone to a lot of trouble before they had left the island to make sure he knew exactly where the cabin was, and how it could be reached from any direction on foot. He wondered how his next youngest brother was doing this morning? John had been so exhausted last night, that he had fallen asleep without even waking up to eat a meal. Scott was not sure that John's exhaustion was solely due to his injured knee either.

Something was eating at him.

Scott grabbed the largest container along with a tin mug and strolled over to the stream. He filled his mug and drained it thirstily, then filled it a second time, drinking it more slowly. He sighed in relief, and lowering the large container into the water, he waited patiently for the bubbling stream to fill that too.

The water was clear and cool and pure. So close to its source, with nothing and no one out here to defile it, there was no need to use Brains' purification tablets. He screwed the cap on the container tightly and carried it back to camp.

Virgil was still snoring loudly. He always did when he lay on his back. Alan was muttering in his sleep. He must be dreaming. Whatever it was, it didn't sound very nice, but Alan was still sharing a tent with Gordon, and as a fairly light sleeper, Gordon always managed to soothe his little brother down before a bad dream turned into a real nightmare. Sure enough, Scott heard soft whispers, and the restless tossing and muttering ceased. Peace reigned once more.

Something was still not quite right though, Scott was certain. He had not been a big brother all his life for nothing. John. Something was up with John. His concern won out in the end, and he sat on his haunches and peeped through the flaps of John's tent.

John was sitting up in his sleeping-bag, hugging his knees, his brow furrowed in a worried looking frown. He glanced up at the interruption, rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Hey bro."

"Hey yourself."

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever."

Scott crawled inside and sat, cross legged facing his brother.

"You okay?"

John looked up at him, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical manner.

"Your big brother instincts working on overtime again, Scott?"

Scott grinned and nodded.

"I've learned to rely on them over the years. They've never let me down yet…." He paused and grinned. "Not that I know of, anyway."

John smiled.

"True to form, big bro. What are they telling you now?"

"That something is eating at you. Something you need to get off your chest."

"What if its something that no one can do anything about? Something that I will just have to live with?"

Scott shook his head.

"If it is something that is hurting you, worrying you or making you unhappy, then it will just have to stand aside! Nothing gets to _my_ little brother and gets away with it!"

That made John chuckle.

"Oh Scott, if only things were that simple."

"You might be surprised, John, what things can be sorted out when we all put our heads together. Surely this holiday has proven that by now?"

John nodded.

"It has that. So, you want to make _me_ the subject of our next campfire discussion then?"

"Can we? We agreed, Johnny, that we are all happy and relaxed, all our issues shared and sorted by the time we decide to go home."

John closed his eyes and shuddered suddenly.

"I'm not sure I will ever be ready to go home in that case, Scott. This one is a biggie, and I can only think of one way to solve it."

"What's that?"

"Disband International Rescue once and for all."

Scott stared at his younger brother, his eyes wide and concerned. He leaned forward and impulsively grabbed him in a one-armed hug.

"We'll save tonight's campfire for you then, John. Say whatever you need to say without any of us interrupting you. We'll see what we can come up with between us to put your mind at rest."

John nodded, then pulled away shyly.

"Okay Scott, thanks. Um…do you…would you…?"

Scott grinned. He found John's personal modesty very touching.

"Alright kiddo, I'll get lost while you get up and dress. Coffee?"

John nodded. He threw his rucksack at his brother. Scott caught it and stared at it nonplussed.

"Thanks…I need this why?"

"You'll find some instant energy in there. Share it out equally. We'll all be glad of it today if we're going to reach grandpa's cabin by tonight. From here it's a long way to walk in one day, Scott."

Scott peered into the bag and brought out two huge bars of chocolate. His grin widened.

"Wow John. Just what the doctor ordered. We'll almost be able to fly there on this stuff!"

FAB

The sun was already setting by the time the five brothers arrived at their grandfather's lakeside cabin. Built out of hand-chopped logs by their grandfather, Grant Tracy and his brothers Billy and Dan more than sixty years earlier, it was well weathered, moss beginning to invade the steps, weeds and long grasses growing tall against one side of the building.

"Um…Scott, you do know that _you_ are going to be the one to chase all of the spiders out of there before I go in, right?" Alan informed his eldest brother, eyeing the structure. Virgil grinned at him.

"I thought you said you had defeated that phobia, Alan? It's an awkward phobia to have, giving that we live on a tropical island, where common house-spiders are generally three times larger than they are in cooler climates?"

Scott laughed and ruffled his youngest brother's hair.

"Don't worry Squirt. They are more scared of you than you are of them."

Alan shot him a glare.

"That is not helpful, Scott. And you will make sure there are no spiders in there, or I will wash out that boat, and then spend the night in the middle of the lake where I shall be spider-free."

Gordon raised his eyebrows and smirked at his younger brother.

"Er…Alan, spiders can swim. You know that, right?"

"Why all this fuss about spiders anyway, Al?" John asked, giving Alan a nudge with his shoulder. Alan sighed.

"Last time I was here with dad and Gordy I was a little kid, and I remember there was a giant specimen in the bedroom doorway. I remember I badly needed the bathroom, and I couldn't go 'coz the spider was in the way."

His brothers all laughed, and Alan reluctantly smiled. Gordon nodded.

"I remember that, Alan. You screamed the place down, and dad came and got rid of it for you."

Alan nodded.

"I slept with dad that night so that he could protect me from any more that came in."

"Yeah." Gordon replied. "You and I were supposed to share a bed that night, but I didn't want to share with you because at the time you used to be very fidgety at night. So, I planted my large fake rubber spider in the doorway. That's what dad moved. Dad confiscated my fake spider, you got to sleep in his bed and I got a bed to myself!"

Scott, John and Virgil roared with laughter and Gordon grinned whilst Alan gaped indignantly.

"You mean…!"

He stared at his laughing brothers, then at Gordon's grinning visage. His face dropped into a slight frown, and Gordon stopped laughing, realizing that his little brother was really upset.

"Hey Alan, I'm sorry…at the time I thought it was a joke…"

"Perhaps it was Gords, but the thing is, I don't remember ever being afraid of spiders until that night, and I've been terrified of them ever since! And now…"

Gordon was stunned into silence, the three older ones exchanged uneasy glances. Alan's jaw worked silently, then he shrugged and unbuckled his backpack, thrusting it into Gordon's arms.

"Well Gordy, since you are accidentally responsible for a lifetime of arachnophobia on my part, I think you should be in charge of catching the fish for supper tonight, after Scott has chased away the spiders. Then once you have cooked the fish and washed all the dishes, you can massage my sore feet for me, and…"

Gordon dropped Alan's pack on the floor beside his own with a shout of laughter.

"Dream on baby brother! You can catch your own darn fish!" He lunged forwards to tickle his brother. Alan laughed and ran away. The three older ones chuckled as they watched the two youngest chasing each other round and round, dodging around bushes and trees before ending up in an exhausted, giggling heap on the jetty.

"Would I sound too old if I said I wished I had their energy?" John murmured as he watched. Scott and Virgil chuckled.

"Absolutely!" Virgil replied, "which is why _I'm_ not going to say it. Come on Scott. Alan's right. It's been so long since we were here last, the place will likely be infested. I suggest _you_ attack the insects and their webs, stroke nests, while _I_ grab a broom and a bucket. John, could you and the kids catch us some fish, then lay the fire ready for cooking?"

Scott unlocked the door, poked his head inside and turned back.

"I have a better idea Virge." He said solemnly. "John, why don't _you_ deal with the infestation in here, whilst _I_ get us some fish for supper? You have always been a lover of the island wildlife, haven't you? This place would be further up your street than mine!"

Virgil smirked and John grinned.

"Very well, oh big, brave leader. So long as you can swear to me there are no rabbits in there?"

"Oh, no rabbits John." Scott assured him. "One or two creatures in there that might be about rabbit sized, but they definitely are _not_ rabbits!"

FAB

It took over an hour for the brothers to clean up the cabin, chase away the erstwhile lodgers, catch themselves some fish and prepare supper. Finally though, they were seated on large cushions around a roaring fire inside the cabin, eating their meal, drinking hot cocoa and staring into the flames. Paraffin lamps provided a low, warm light that complimented the light from the fire, as the brothers finally began to relax after their long day of walking.

Presently, John glanced up and caught Scott watching him. He had one eyebrow slightly raised as if in query. John shrugged and nodded slightly. Scott smiled and put down his mug carefully on the floor beside him.

"So guys, I know this isn't a regular campfire, but…"

"Yes!" Gordon chipped in before Scott could continue. "Whose turn is it? Yours, Alan?"

Alan shook his head.

"Not me. I had my moment outside when we arrived if you remember!"

"Oh yeah, so you did. The arachnophobia based on my fake spider…"

Alan opened his mouth to retaliate but Scott beat him to it.

"Actually fellows, John has had something on his mind for a while that we really could do with listening to."

He gave John an encouraging smile.

"John?"

John cradled his mug between his two hands as he stared into the flames, watching them as they danced. His brothers fell silent, recognizing the preoccupied expression on his face. Scott was right.

"What is it Johnny?" Alan asked, leaning against his hero. John wrapped an arm around Alan's shoulders and finally looked round at his four brothers.

"Okay…Scott reckons you may be able to help me. I don't…I can't…"

"Talk John. Just…just talk to us." Virgil told him in a soft voice. John nodded.

"Well, I suppose we have covered it already back at home before we left, but…I guess the problem is that there is no solution that I can think of. I mean, there might be a way of solving it, but the whole thing has me wound tighter than a drum. I can usually logic my way through problems and worries, but for some reason this seems…I just can't…"

It was almost unknown to see John this uncertain. There was real fear behind his eyes, even though they could see he was trying very hard to keep a lid on it. To interrupt him now would only close him down though. They knew their brother well enough to know that he would come to the point in his own time and way. Johnny was a reluctant talker even with them when his emotions were piqued to this degree. They sat and waited in sympathetic silence, Alan resting his head on John's shoulder.

John was silent for such a long time, his brothers had started to wonder if he had changed his mind about talking to them, when he let out a long, slightly shuddering breath.

"The Hood fired a missile at Thunderbird Five and blew her into powder. Eos had just seconds to escape. If I had been on board, I wouldn't have had a chance. I would be floating as a mass of atoms up there right now along with the remnants of my Thunderbird."

He looked up and locked gazes with Scott.

"There would have been no more me."

He sighed. He could see the pain etched into every face, and he felt Alan gripping his arm tighter still in silent support. They all wanted to speak out, to try and comfort him, he could see that clearly, but they had all been all over this ground before. They all felt his pain just as deeply themselves, but they were all four of them very aware of the nightmares his near miss still caused him. This was not news to his brothers. He gave Alan's hand an acknowledging squeeze.

"Sorry guys, been there and all that…"

Virgil shook his head softly.

"John, we're all here for you. You just tell us whatever you want to tell us. Say everything you need to say, any way you want or need to. We're not going anywhere. It doesn't matter how many times we go over familiar ground. This stuff is still hurting all of us, and you most of all."

John smiled at him.

"Thanks." He said simply. "Well, before we left the island, we all voted to keep International Rescue going, and simply announce our return to active service when we're ready, which could be in a few weeks or even months. That means eventually we are going to need another _Five_."

His brothers all nodded. That was already understood. John stared around at them, a slight furrow appearing in his brow.

"Well? Guys, whatever happens once can happen again! If the Hood can target Five with a missile and destroy it once, he or someone else could easily do it a second, or third time. What are the chances that I would manage to escape next time? Worse still, the Hood knows the whereabouts of Tracy Island. What if he were to aim a missile at the island? I know we have security set up, shields and everything, but we all know that there is only so much we can do to protect ourselves. An incoming missile? What, do we start arming ourselves with missiles for defense? Or a small arsenal to deter others who think about trying the same trick? What will happen then guys? Is International Rescue so important in the world scene that we start our own mini arms race against the Hood and the Mechanic simply to keep on existing? I know our work is important, but is it so important that we risk losing ourselves and our morality for the sake of…"

His voice had been slowly getting louder and more and more forceful, his manner more and more impassioned; then suddenly he fell silent. His brothers stunned by his words. Was this John? They had all had moments of feeling fears akin to these, and John had always been the voice of logic and of reason. John believed in people, he believed in technology and he believed in Brains. He had always believed that together they could solve any problem, achieve anything they desired. It was his cool, calm, logic and his very belief that had always made him such a brilliant coordinator for the team. He was always able to come up with alternatives with the knowledge of the entire planet at his fingertips. To see him at such a loss was a new experience.

Scott leaned forward and topped up John's hot chocolate from the jug.

"John, everything you say is right, but those are the sort of problems we have been facing and solving every day ever since IR first came on line. There is nothing technologically we can't solve if we get our heads together. _You're_ the one who taught _me_ that! Tell us kiddo, what is your _real_ problem?"

John looked from Scott, to Virgil, to Gordon, then down at Alan still snuggled close to his side, still gazing up at him the way he always did, naked love and trust in his eyes. The thought of letting down his littlest brother pierced him through, and yet out of all of them, it was perhaps Alan who knew him best. He was always more open with Alan than with any of the others. Somehow, he knew that whatever he said would not matter to the Squirt. Alan would always look up to John as his hero, whatever happened. He rested his chin on the top of Alan's head, wiping something unexpected from his eye. Alan looked up.

"Johnny, please!"

As John looked into Alan's concerned face, he knew all at once what his problem actually was. He had been refusing to face it all this time. Too ashamed to face the fact that he was afraid. Afraid of going back into space, and yet afraid of living without it. Space had been a part of his life now for so many years…it was like home to him.

Home!

Fat tears suddenly rolled down John's face, as he exploded into a sudden sob, which he instantly repressed and fought until he had managed to regain a measure of control. Breaths came faster, as he fought and choked his emotions back down again.

"Johnny please, tell them!" Alan pleaded beside him. John stared at him in shock.

"You know?"

Alan nodded.

"It's you Johnny. I always know. Please tell them. They can help. _We_ can help!"

John nodded.

"I…guys its just that…" another sob managed to escape before John forced it back down. "Guys, Thunderbird Five is my home! She was my home! I helped to design and build her, I knew every bolt and every rivet, I knew every inch of her. I could read her like a book. She was my home and I've lost her! I miss her Scott…I miss my Five so much it hurts every moment! You guys still have your birds ready for when you get back to them…One and Two and Three and Four…but you couldn't have been nearly as close to your 'birds as I was to mine…she took care of me, she kept me alive, protected me and obeyed my instructions. I miss her like you wouldn't believe, and yet I know that once she is rebuilt, I am going to be too scared to go back up there. I miss my home and I desperately want to rebuild her, but there's no point. I'm too scared of going back up to Five whilst we have people like the Hood and the Mechanic running around. And there will _always_ be people like them trying to destroy everything."

He covered his face with his hands, the better to hide for a moment, before looking up again, his eyes only slightly damp.

"I'm scared guys. Scared of being in space on my new Five and being attacked again, and yet also scared of the same thing happening on the island. Terrified that we stood in the lounge back on the island, completely helpless whilst the Hood destroyed so much of us. Our communications, my home and for a while our reputations too."

John fell silent, shuddering, curled in on himself. His brothers came close and huddled around him, saying very little, but comforting him with their presence. What could they say in comfort? Everything he had said was true, and the fear he now felt as a result was completely natural. After a while, once John's shaking had subsided a little, they all sat up again. Gordon rubbed the back of his head.

"John, you've never been afraid before, have you?"

The others gaped at him, but John half smiled.

"You're right, Fish. I've been afraid for you guys many times, but I always knew that up on Five I was safe. I was untouchable. I was never afraid for myself. Now I am. Five was always my escape from the gravity of Earth; my escape from the chaos and the noise…sorry Gords…of life on the island. It was my safe place. My security blanket if you like, and now…"

Virgil chewed his lip for a moment, and then sat up, spurring his brothers to all sit up also. They watched as Virgil fished in his backpack for his sketchpad, then return to the cushions to sit among them once again.

"Okay Johnny. We need a communications satellite. We can create one that works on auto all the time, but of course, that does leave us just slightly more open to cyber-attacks. You are the very best one of us at communications. Better than any machine. You know computers even better than Brains, so you are the best one for the job. So, we need you doing your job. John, you have always been the voice of common sense among the five of us. What is it you have always reminded us when things got tough?"

John frowned, then gave a rueful grin.

"Working together we can accomplish anything? I was only quoting mom, that's all. She really believed that, and it's what she always told me."

He sighed.

"I guess I should be telling myself that more often, but it's hard sometimes. I'm missing her a lot right now."

Scott nodded.

"Mom always knew the right thing to do, every time." he said softly. Virgil nodded.

"Well, mom was the wisest woman who ever lived. When the original Five was designed, it was based largely on current designs, original ideas, knowledge of the features we would need and a lot of imagination, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, this time you have lived up there for a long time. You know what you need and what you always wished could be incorporated. We also know what the Hood is capable of. We get together, you and me, and dad and Brains and we list all of those things and find or invent an answer to every one of them. I already have a few ideas on how we can stop our new satellite from ever being hit by a missile ever again."

Four pairs of eyebrows shot up.

"You do? How many defense missiles would it involve?" John asked, half suspiciously. Virgil grinned.

"None at all. At the moment I am calling it my _Chocolate Orange_ design _."_

" _Chocolate orange_?" a fully certifiable chocoholic, John's mouth twitched.

"Tell me more!"

TBC . . .


	17. Chapter 17 - Carefree

**AN:** _**To keep the places in this story ambiguous, the town mentioned is pure invention. If there is such a place with such a name anywhere in the world (and there could be I suppose) it is completely coincidental!**_

John Tracy lay in his sleeping-bag on the living room floor of grandpa Tracy's mountain cabin, as the first rays of daylight pierced the gloom. The sun came up slightly later up here, and the darkness tended to be increased by the volume of trees surrounding the cabin.

In their day, grandpa and his brothers had always kept the surrounding trees well and truly pruned in order to maximize sunlight to the cabin; but after their deaths, with dad the only Tracy left to inherit the cabin, they had all been left to grow wildly. Dad had never had the time to worry about pruning the trees around the cabin unless they in any way endangered the safety of the cabin itself and its inhabitants. Be they human or even insectoid.

John grinned slightly at the memory of Scott's face when he had peeped through the window yesterday and seen the size of the infestation. Spiders had been the least of the problem. Rats, mice and even one or two birds had managed to find their way inside, and the entire place had been a mess. Once every non-human inhabitant had been evicted, the brothers had had to undertake a mammoth cleaning project to make it safe to stay in.

Today they would be chopping down one or two trees with grandpa's old axes; and making repairs. It had clearly been too many years since any of them had had time to come up here.

It was fortunate there had been no sign of bats in the place. Virgil had climbed into the attic space to make sure, but it was empty, save for the cobwebs. Had there been bats, they would have had legal problems in evicting them. Many species of bat were on the worldwide endangered list these days, and every colony of bats discovered had to be reported officially. It was a criminal offense now to destroy or relocate any colony of bats without special permission and specialist supervision.

He raised himself up on his elbow and looked around at his brothers. Last night, rather than disperse to the two bedrooms, they had chosen to all sleep on the floor together in here. John had been greatly comforted by their presence; their refusal to leave him alone.

Yesterday, he had finally managed to face and reveal his own very worst fear. That of one day returning to Thunderbird Five when she was rebuilt in case history repeated itself.

He would surely not escape with his life a second time if the new station was destroyed? And yet, she was his home, and he missed her terribly. He was as equally afraid of returning to her and of living without her. And then had come along Virgil, with his artists' imagination had come up with something exciting and mind-blowing.

John was sure that Scott, Gordon and Alan had taken in very little of Virgil's ideas. Virgil had been intense, and excited about his ideas, and he and John had lapsed into what Gordon had described as "unintelligible techno-babble". They had fallen asleep, but he and Virgil had continued into the night, discussing their various ideas.

Somehow, John was no longer afraid. He was sure there had to be a way of making Virgil's ideas work. A new station with the capability of detecting any incoming object, be that missile, asteroid or anything else, and simply seal off predesigned bulkheads, and split itself four ways, to each perform an entire orbit of the earth before coming back together and reattaching once more.

There were massive holes in the designs, of course there were. For example, what of the central core, with the computer central databases? John was certain that to try and design them into a separation scenario would be nigh on impossible. Perhaps some kind of protected central core, that could be pre-programmed to return to Tracy Island? Land in the sea nearby perhaps, and be rescued by Gordon? If it was designed correctly, it could even be of a size that could be retrieved by Gordon, delivered to Thunderbird Three and returned to rejoin the rest of the station? John's brain had started to ache last night as he contemplated all the possibilities of Virgil's design.

They needed to get back home and speak to dad and Brains. Once the four of them got together, pooled their ideas, John was sure they could sort out the minor issues.

Somehow, John knew that their prolonged holiday was working its magic on himself and his brothers. They were beginning to heal. There were still a few issues to deal with, but all the major traumas had been fought into submission, and now plagued the brothers only at night, rather than all the time.

Now to banish the nightmares too.

John was content to lay still, watching the reflections of light dancing across the ceiling as the rising sun shone through the trees.

Eventually, he heard a sigh and looked round. Scott was awake, staring up at the ceiling. He looked bored out of his mind. John grinned.

"You okay Scott?" he whispered. Scott sat up and smiled at him.

"I'm alright. Any idea what the time is?"

John shrugged.

"Don't know. Don't care either. It's nice to not have to worry about it."

"How did you sleep?"

John shook his head.

"I didn't very much. Too excited!"

Scott looked surprised.

"Excited? You were afraid and worried last night, and I fell asleep thinking we had failed to help you very much."

John grinned.

"You were tired. We all were, but Virgil came up with some seriously brilliant ideas for the new space station, Scott. Ideas that, if we can make them work, will revolutionize the safety of the station. Some of the ideas could be adapted for Tracy island too…I always knew our little brother was ingenious, but last night I learned just how much."

Scott nodded and laughed softly.

"I would guess that has something to do with his being an artist. He doesn't let logic stifle his imagination. You and I live in very sane and logical bedrooms, John. But step into Virgil's room…"

"An eclectic mix of styles and colours that should clash and look terrible, but somehow looks amazing. Yeah, I know. Hungry?"

"Yes, very. We ought to get everyone up soon John. We're going to have to fix this place up before we go, or it will be completely uninhabitable next time we come up here."

"I know. Tell you what then, I'll get breakfast going, and you get the guys up."

"Me? Why don't _you_ wake up the bear and the cubs, whilst _I_ get breakfast?"

"You're the oldest, Scott. _You_ get the tough job. See ya!"

John got to his feet and made his way through the sleeping forms of his three younger brothers to the kitchenette. Scott rolled his eyes and braced himself for a struggle with the sleeping bear.

oOoOoOo

After a breakfast of coffee, toast and fried fish, the brothers split up the various tasks between them.

Virgil was put in charge of selecting trees for felling and carrying out the deed with Gordon to help him.

Scott and Alan surveyed the entire cabin from floor to rafters, removing any broken or rotten wood, going through the protected woodpile dad had left in the boathouse, and setting aside every plank that was still dry, solid and durable.

Meanwhile, John cleared the entire area around the cabin of bushes and scrub, fallen branches and leaves, and chased away any lingering wildlife. Including, to his own dismay, three baby rabbits.

It took them, all in all, four days to finish their work, but finally they sat back on the rear porch of the cabin, admiring their handiwork.

The cabin had been mended. Every broken or rotten plank had been removed and replaced throughout, the broken porch step had been replaced, and the door had been removed, repaired and rehung straighter, so that the lock worked without sticking. The area around the cabin was now clear, the trees that had started to crowd the cabin had been removed, and certain others had benefitted by a good pruning. Finally, the long, stony driveway that led up to the cabin from the road had been cleared of overgrown bushes and thorns, and the ruts and craters that could potentially break a car's suspension had been filled and smoothed.

That had been long, tedious, back-breaking work for Gordon and Alan when all they had was garden spades to use, but finally all the work was done. The cabin had been cleaned and scrubbed so thoroughly that even grandma would have been impressed. Alan sipped his cocoa and leaned back against the cabin wall.

"You know, after all that hard work, I really could do with a holiday!"

Gordon spluttered with laughter, almost spitting out his cocoa, and the brothers all laughed.

"So, do we stay here and enjoy our hard work for a couple more days, or do we carry on with our hike?"

The brothers looked at one another, the same question in each of their minds. They were all getting along great with one another, and all of them felt much better for the time they had had. They were all now beginning to miss home, but none of them were yet ready to return.

"I could use a new pair of shoelaces…" Gordon said, frowning into his drink. John nodded.

"I could use a new razer. Mine is now so blunt I cut myself this morning on it, and if there is one thing I do not want, it is to go home wearing a beard!"

Scott chuckled.

"Well, why don't we carry on with our hike then guys? If we take the road for now until we reach the next town down the line and restock our supplies, we'll be able to carry on for as long as we want to. What do you say?"

His brothers agreed.

"Do you reckon that old lady still runs the coffee shop in Sharon Heights?" Alan asked, as they started to collect their belongings together. Virgil looked at him in surprise.

"You mean old Mrs. Whittaker? You remember her Alan? She must be long dead by now. She was about a hundred when I last saw her, and that was at least twelve years ago."

John laughed aloud.

"Virgil, you were here eleven years ago, when you and I came up here with dad. Mrs. Whittaker was sixty-seven at the time. There is every chance she could be still going strong."

Virgil grinned.

"Only sixty-seven, was she? Slightly older than grandma is now, then? How come I remember her being really, really ancient?"

"Because you were really young, Virge!" Scott replied with a grin and poked his middle brother in the ribs. "I really don't know how grandma would react though if you were to describe _her_ as being really, really ancient, at least a hundred years old!"

"I wouldn't ever have the nerve!" Virgil replied, "and don't poke me like that Scott! You know I'm ticklish there!"

Scott nodded, his grin widening.

"Oh yes, so you are!" he said, putting his rucksack back down on the ground. He glanced round at John and the two youngest, who had caught on and were beginning to close in on the unfortunate Virgil. Virgil tried to back away, bumping into John who immediately launched into a tickle attack on Virgil's ticklish ribs.

"No!" Virgil squirmed desperately, "Please, no, no, no, no, no…please stop it…!"

When finally they let him go, Virgil was weak with laughing so much, the five brothers sat in row on the little wooden jetty, watching as the sun sank low across the lake, sending red rays across the sky. Tomorrow they would continue their hike. More campfires sessions were awaiting them…


End file.
